Intoxicated I Love You
Skylar Jones

Men that are drunk, are the
only ones that want to touch me.
The only ones that see the beauty
in me and act upon it.
They may have mistaken my hips as
the neck of a bottle.
Or my hands as the next shot.
But they grab a hold of me just the same.
I know I am not what they truly want,
but I let them down me anyway.

Men so high that their heads pass the clouds
are the only ones that want to hear
what I have to say.
They breathe in every word like the
smoke they just inhaled.
I make them think about things that they
hide when their mind is grounded, but they want more.
So they kiss me like my lips are
a blunt or bowl or bong
or whatever they need to be lifted up again.
I know I am not what they truly want,
but I let them take another hit anyway.

Sober men never want me
or need me
or love me.
They realize the girl with the broken center
is not as sweet as she seems.
They see me for who I am
and know what I never will be.
I know I am not what they truly want,
But they know it too.
I belong to the intoxicated.
If I believe hard enough, maybe
their “I love you”s will be meant for me.
They want me even though
it’s for things that I am not.
They see me as whatever they want to see
and feel me as if they know what I am.
As if I am what they truly want,
So I let them take it all.

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Skylar Jones is a junior attending UNCG and majoring in psychology. Her works delve into heartbreak, depression and other troubling and sometimes eerie topics. She hopes that her words can evoke powerful emotion.