drink

I wanted to tell you so badly today. I wanted to tell you instead of writing it at 2am in a bar on my own. I wanted to tell you about the past. How it visited me this week and how it slid off my back. That I myself seemed to be water off my own back and it terrified me that I couldn’t get a grip into my own spine. That the worse things got the more I laughed. I wanted to tell you about the gig tonight. About how talented those young kids were and how distant I felt from it all. About the drunk guys hand on my right bottom cheek and the girls hand on the left. I wanted to tell you everything. Again and again. Like a rehearsal. Until you knew it. Until you knew me. I wanted to explain to you that seeing you today made it hard for me to walk. That you’re the only thing that makes my heart beat waiver. That I want to fuck myself up so badly right now but that seeing you unwell hurts me more. That I wanted to look after you and tell you you were the most beautiful man on earth. Again and again. I wanted to curl up behind you while you were sleeping tonight, my cheek against your back, listening to you breathing, the safest sound in the world, tighten myself into the smallest ball and whisper into your ear that I got so drunk that I couldn’t spell the word future and that for the first time that made it seem like somewhere I wanted to go.