Neat Illusion: A comparison in hand writing

Written after two mixed drinks and a sloppy mess.

I love you bit lip

hands between your knees

leaning in, zoning out and then twisting away

could you feel my heart (funny how it looks like hurt)

beating through the couch

or was it the corner of my eye?

You so disappointed by another man

the other one to sweep you away like a broom

but that's traitorous talk

I'm still here sitting next to you

reclining with bare feet

the last time I drunkenly rested my arm on my side

you politely asked me to move the thing next to you

this doesn't help my case much

wishing you rest on my shoulder

breathing  in the oxygen to the brain

in the same measured way I do that represses

the uncontrollable need to breathe

is it unthinkable, horrible to consider any advanced intimacy

or are you afraid to love me back?

Corone me, slap me

my dead, calm clammy hands fidget unnervingly with 

you by my side separated by a canyon of a cushion

Am I such a coward to avoid honestly telling the people I care most about 

about how I feel?

And who could come to love such a beast 

A horrid storytelling monster?

Is that who I am to become-or am I already there creeping on windows of weirdness

hoping for a shot of rumwhiskey

two glasses mixed for one

another or other