shot me in the brain hole.
frog my freedom and forgiveness.
I whispered in the night.
and spilled a Coca-Cola.
while being difficult.
but tonight, we speak in code.
the consequence of getting old.
and falling in love.
not wanting to be the last one.
spilling my beans on my jeans.
losing my touch.
nothing being rectified.
contemplating loss.
sweating over the stove.
and the red card comes down on us.
but I hope we will be alright.
will live.
to see another night.