Liquid Courage

Liquid courage. Alcohol. All I need to make it through a night with you.

One shot, pure vodka. Now I can start to dance. Now I start to giggle. I force you to take a shot. Now you can dance with me.

Two shots, tequila this time. You hate it, I love it. Now I can tell you how much you're like Jim from The Office. You don't quite understand.

Three shots, ouzo for us. I tell you I hate ouzo, and you force me to take the shot. Now I have my head on your shoulder and the world is blurry.

Four shots, wet pussy shots. We dance. Your hand is on my waist and I can't stop looking at your lips. My hand on your arms, feeling the veins through your thin shirt. You smile, I smile. We are content.

Five shots, back to vodka. I tell you how attractive Jim from The Office is. You smirk, your eyes asking the golden question: "so you love me?". I want to eat my words but I can't understand why.

Six shots, whiskey. We yell over the music about everything and nothing and I hate that I can only talk to you when I'm drunk. I hate that you only seem to care when you're drunk even more.

Seven shots, I don't even know. The world is spinning. I am saying words of affection that I regret as soon as they leave my lips. You're putting me in a taxi and I'm begging to stay with you. And then, you're gone.

One shot, two shots, three shots, four shots, five shots, six shots, seven shots. Water. I cry in the car knowing I have to see you again. Liquid courage. All I need to keep you out of my life.