…Everybody wants to explore the new girl, caught up in her own hard liquor world.

Current mood: surprised, but not so much. Should’ve seen it coming.

Truth.
I wouldn’t know what to think.
Don’t let us lose it.
Lust is a chemical reaction. As is love.
No control over ourselves.
God is a molecule.
Bind me. Bound to.
Closure is not a word we know. Or care to.
Join me (in the closet). Closer.
Secrets safe. Only known in our,
Heads, hearts. More.
Formal fantasy. Drunken delusion.
Drank you up.
To liqueur or not.
Subliminal messages fill you ears.
But underneath the sheets is over your head.
Innocence. Incoherence.
Who’s the whore now?
He fed you a line and you ate him up.
Do a little more.
Flirting is so yesterday anyway.
Jump to round two right away.
Took a left turn and ended up torn.
Told you so seems too simple.
Dominate. Desecrate.
Dimples did it for him.
Never said a word.
Gossip teams and loser lines.

So again I ask.

You wanted more.

So now who’s the whore?