I'm pouring myself into your glass,
stiff and toxic -
as sobering as the thought is
I still let you tempt me.

We indulge in masochistic meetings
held in confessional boxes
We bathe ourselves in fireworks
and you dress me in colors,
that I don't have the courage to wear.

Our bottle is now half-empty,
and letters find themselves decorating pages
to a story we've been told for years;
I've forgotten a pen.

I can't remember how to write you out.

So instead, I'll stay the night,
and drink you in.