wasted.

want you to caress me like a tropical breeze
and float away with you in a caribbean sea

we talked. and laughed. talked somemore. it’s not the end of the world.
nice guy. perhaps not boyfriend material that’s all.

the weekend was spent, as usual, getting tanked.
i can’t recall a dry spell. not the last three months.
it ain’t surprising anymore. i should just keep it to me. and *F.
cause at the very least, some people get why i do it. why it’s fun doing it.

i do it. you don’t get to judge me.