Everything That Happens Behind Every Locked Door, Everywhere

Hazy mother fucker,
a fog in the head of the young.
Misty revelations that lead to
boners about hookers you saw online that time-
when drunk. And with drunk eyes
you looked upon them wanting to ask,
‘Why this, why this task?’
But alcohol forms no words or sense,
it laughs at the mouth trying to grasp a response.

Still in mid mist, pretty girls
pluck hair in calculated risks
only to leave themselves with a brow of blood
and a basin full of beauty. Cloudy
mirror looms above, only there to show how fat you once were,
lost kisses trod into tiny room carpet, fallen from the gaping mouths
of 2 people very much in love.