Intoxicated Escapade

 

You’re clung to my arm, unable to walk on your own.

One foot in front of the other, turns inward, you trip.

“I-I wanna…wanna go see Jake!” you slur.

But you don’t know a Jake. I don’t know a Jake.

Very insistent. Now you see your old roommate.

Attempting to run to her, you fall into her and grab

the cigarette on her hand.

 

“C’mon, it’s getting really late…or early…” I try.

You throw your arms up in detest, but

the force knocks your over. Four attempts to

get up, you laugh hysterically.

 

You’re attached to me, arms wrapped around my waist.

You try to kiss my neck. I gently push you away

and lead you home, struggle to open your door

while keeping you standing. You stumble

to your room, carelessly take off your glasses

and fall on your bed.

 

I’m finally sitting home, cuddled up with a book.

You won’t remember any of this in the morning.