kiss my ass...

Too scared to drink for I may get drunk.
I'm afraid to feel the emotion buried in the heart that resembles luv.
Dead in the depths of a damn near forgotten past life.
I will forevver run from the thought of u n I.
Petrified of bein touched, I avoid the booze.
I don't want anything that'll ever remind me of any resemblance of u.
Chained to the passion is the pleasure entangled in the secrets of me.
Tippin the bottle is a game of recollection that quakes in lost dreams.
For lips to connect with the rim of poison would end the routine of movin on.
I must remain sober to control the pits shakin to the vibe of bein torn.
Fantasy land is a grip in thy hand shoved away for u ran outta ur chance.
It's the imagination that needs not to play along with the flow in which u dance.
Bottoms up could neva bring back the way i felt for u.
U were the worm that dragged out my eva so forgivin use.
My sobriety is one in which that'll neva taste u again.
For the potion alone recalls the way next to u, i stood as a man.
Broken n hollow n left for dead.
Jus thinkin about it i could burn the memories of layin u down in my head.
With a splash of the alcohol poured down the drain to keep u from reachin me.
I'll neva drown my sorrow to ur selfish expectations of what it is u think.
I need not interact with a past takin shape of a lonely glass.
Filled to give another shot of me to the emptiness of kiss my ass.
If poured on the rocks it still wouldn't make the memories unmade.
The emptiness will remain unfulfilled as a wasted escape.
My thirst is a memory not tryin to toast with no one around.
Two good times gone bad turned my life upside down.
Unable to be quenched the crown sits silently n undeserved.
Wantin my nerves to twitch for what has been served.
Thoughts that resist the animation chained to my mind.
Will neva give in to what lingers behind dried out eyes.
Juiced up on the fiction of luv from the tap unscrewed.
One drop would lead me to an emotional doom.
To, for, or over u I shall not meet the edge.
Where lips feel the texture of the fluid that could spin in my head.