I was drunk the first time. I don't remember the first time.
You don't know when my emotions fill the air. And I'd leave before you knew I was there.I won't give you the chance to catch my tears or full mouth. I'm flaw-ed and tire-d. I wouldn't want, I wouldn't dare, frost the mouth that sets aflame. So, I bite my words and play drama on my own little childish stage, breathing in the alcoholic bite in the air. I'll just fill my chest with swelling warmth to match my petty frustration. I wrote the words on my arm as a temporary reminder, a psuedo tattoo, that's easily removed when we start pretending I never was upset at all. I'll be the pretender. You'll be the believer. You ask, "Are you okay." I am not an oh and my first name isn't Kay, I'm not okay, but my character's directions strictly forbid any unsettling truths. "I'm fine."