And do you miss the days I used to taste like punk rock?
Beer and cigarettes,
Struggling to come out of my own cocoon.
Sleeping on all sides of the bed.
I danced in high heels all night.
Tonight my kisses taste like rum.
I am in flames. I am on fire.
Glorious monument to my own self worth.
I miss you.
The pillow talk in candid moments.
But all things glorious aren’t built to last.