you spin the bottle one more time
as the door bangs
unorthodox movements brace your skin and you kiss
the girl with the glasses
pointed by the bottom of the bottle
a teenage feeling comes in your minds
pills and demons
cry with every television personality the see on the
neighborhood. If we kiss hands
you are holy
if we kiss lips, you are a drug
One feels like the discovery of the century
wrapped in paper sheets and dirty blankets
protected from the public eye.
we got your back as you scream
"Fuck You" to the walls.