You and I

October 4, 2008
By Anonymous

You and I were problem children
Dancing nights away with stolen liquor in hand.
Sloppy, drunken kisses paraded across our slurring lips
Whispering promises that wouldn't last
Any longer than the hangover.
We'd fall asleep next to each other after the best night of our lives
And wake up in the morning with a curious headache
Wondering why we felt so bad,
Why our mouths were so dry and empty.

You and I were rebel kids
Smoking cigarettes from rooftops at sunset,
The gleam of embers red against our eyes
As we inhaled toward a promised haven.
All we really got was an aching in our lungs,
A wheezing cough, and an addiction to all the wrong things.
Eventually we'd stamp out those smokes
Grinding them beneath our feet
Just one more thing we walked all over.

You and I were wasted lives
Pushing aside homework for the unpredictable.
We pranced through the rain,
Splashing in puddles and licking away the sweet drops,
Not really with a destination.
But we always eventually made it back to dorm rooms
A short-lived glimmer in our eyes
And the realization that the only thing we got from it
Was a fast-fading memory and sopping wet clothes.

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