Under the stars with a bottle of whatever;
counterfeit conversations with a hint of clever.
Bullshit the day; Mimic the chatter
Listen to nonsense that one day won’t matter.

A few more sips and I start to slip,
Unmonitored ramblings escape my lips.
Quick, add a laugh, so no one catches the shift,
and as they engage, my mind’s adrift…

I hear myself laugh,
was it something they said?
Subconscious reaction when I’m busy in my head.
Surrounded by sorrows of such trivial stress
I fail to blend in, but I do try my best.
For I quiet my thoughts, to keep my illusion intact,

but its steadily exhausting to even interact.

So I throw an invoking wrench as my
mind’s begging for a quench of anything
depth-drenched only to watch their minds clench.
“Stop slurring Brittany….You’re wasted”

….No, I’m wasting….