Bottoms up. Down the hatch.
I'm half as good when I'm coming back.
More fair than fairweather,
but I do well with diversity.
And that little bit of mix is easy, free,
And you would've never met
any of these people if it wasn't for me.

I'm the one who brought you here,
I'm the reason you're invited.
I've been close at heart since 10th grade,
remember, when you decided
you wanted to be in with the cool guys,
and the cold ones?

Because they liked the older son.
Not you, the youngest of two
who looked up at your brother,
cared about his opinion more
than your own Mommas words,
Or
the feeling of cold porcelain
on your naked skin that
brings back soothing remnants of mother birds coo.

You realize you've gotten more hugs from a strangers toilet bowl,
than from your own father,
as you kneel languid,
hoping that your heaves are heard
by the right people.

Fast forward a fortnight and a half
'nother long weekend out havin' a blast
from the past-

Get back on your knees!
You can only have fun when I'm around!
I'm the one who picked your confidence up off the ground
and puffed it up so you could talk to
that bimbo,
that jock,
the sleaze ball
who just talks so much damn talk
with the dreamy eyes.

Where would you be without me?
Without your old pal?
Stuck in the cafeteria with a lump in your throat,
too scared to make friends no doubt.
I am the puppet master and
you will obey me as long as I give you
the illusion of self worth and pretend independence.
And as the creator of courage,
you can be sure that if you ever forget
THIS..

No one would even notice
the light reflecting off of your skin, and only see me.
The last missing piece of a
million part puzzle that everyone's looking for,
dead centre in the elegant tapestry of your life,
and upon me they will remain fixated,
no matter how much you scream at them,
with all sincerity,
that I am just a part of you that you tried to bury
underneath the skeletons of old friends in your walk-in closet.

My leaden strings are only as strong as you are weak,
and at this point you can't even stand up for yourself.
Or by yourself.
You're beside a shelf of books
looking down on you from
their unreachable plateau so far above.
But you can feel the judgement
raining down on you, like
you're the Macy's day parade
and everyone forgot their umbrella.

So stay down, and sleep fast little baby.
For when you awake we shall have to be apart for a short while.
But be still, lion in a strangers den.
I'll be back.
I'll be back once you've told all your friends
you'll never even think about me again.
I'll be back when your father
finds out you got what's her face pregnant
and she wants to keep the poor soul.
I'll be back when you spend
the rest of your adult years coasting
through life with a wife and kids
in a home you barely remember outside of the back of your eyelids.

I'll be back for you, whenever you need me,
just drive around the corner to the usual spot
and we'll connect once more.
And when you finally gather up
the courage to throw me out the door,
I'll already have a hold on your kids.

When they're with me, they'll act like you did.
I helped get one into the hospital, remember?
Until the day you die I will have control over your life,
as long as you pretend the strings are there,
making you waste away like
your weekends fine dining after a shot to the stomach lining.

And you will be mad at me, baby, I know you will.
But that just makes you want me more, you little freak.
You always want me back around the middle of the week.

So I'll just sit here 'til the weekend,
in the shadows on your shelf.
Until you decide to uncork your little hell,
and bleed me dry. And drink me up.
But by and by,
I'll be here again when you need another cup.
And another. And another. And another...