I went out to the club the other night
To, you know, dance with my b**hes
That guy was there again
He's like
I'm sorry for what I said last weekend
I told him I didn't mind, which was a lie
But I was equally sorry
And I didn't want to apologize
It was just a drunk text
In my head I was writing a fiction of us
Behind my eyes, I was begging for
Things my lips could never ask
And my mouth kept pouring
Desperate clauses of random intent
He asked me if he could text me later
After the club
He hands me another shot of vodka
And I say, sure
I'm on the dance floor when I get a text from Adam
I'm too lazy to type, so I send him a photo I took up a dancer's skirt
And tell him to come and get it
Not realizing what I had just said
Later on, she comes up to me
Holds up her phone screaming at me and I say
I'm sorry, it was just a drunk text
I should've known they knew each other
No one is safe in the twitter sphere anymore
You take the word s**, and mix it with texting
It's called s**ting
When you add drunk s**ting
The words just don't make sense
It's a hot mess of misspelled obscenities,
Body parts, run on questions
I'm not sure what it means to ask