The Road to Paradise

fire

so here we are again,
I thought it was the beginning
but really it's the end,
my stomach once had butterflies
but now they infest my head,
they're consuming all my oxygen
and I think they want me dead.

I feel such a high
on this rollercoaster ride,
but after every laugh
you take a long booze bath,
I drink in all your problems while you drink all your Jack,
and I hold all your tears in a giant ass glass.

I'll call you today or maybe the next,
and store the stories and secrets in the back of my head.
our unwanted memories get thrown up at night,
and for hours on end curiosity seems right.
but honestly sometimes it's like you're not even there,
and it makes me wonder if you even care,
because I give up so much of my time for you-
it's kind of pathetic-
and the next day you're better.
you don't really need me or want me-
but apparently only in public.

soon I'll be gone and I might have a better life.
I'll miss you and I really wish it wasn't the end.
maybe I'll still call you,
if we're both still alive,
or maybe I'll chuck my phone into the river
and then disappear-
my dear I really wish it wasn't the end.