you’re probably going to dance with another girl who will taste like fresh picked strawberries and smell like flowers blossom in her hair
and you’re probably going to choke down 5 shots of straight vodka and get the thought of me out of your head and focus on the girl dancing with you who wants to be your apple pie but you can’t see the diamonds in her eyes because you’re staring at the ones hanging around her neck and you can’t feel her pull you in closer because she’s reaching farther behind your head of dark hair and tapping shoulders of random guys she’s never even met
and when this happens I hope you run to the dingy bathroom and splash your face with dirty water and vomit up the words you never said because while you’re out drowning your heart in things I shouldn’t care about I’m here looking at the moon whispering how much I fucking love you
and if you take her home I swear to God the moonlight will keep you awake no matter what time it is and you’ll watch it shine across your bedroom floor where we danced and laughed and I almost told you that you are my night sky
and I hope the light catches your attention more than the sight of her would and I hope when you wake up all your remember is that roses are my favourite scented flower and you can’t escape the light of the moon
