The Roar of 3am

Remember the time we did shots of mango juice off the back of your car

You called me to get me out of the house that was drowning me

Pride might have been a parade

My pride was a prison until you let me out

Sneaking me out a cell with the promise of juice shots

I was getting over alcohol

And you were getting over me

Not that I knew or you knew

Rose colored lenses will do that

We were both lost in our youth

That’s what brought us to Walmart at 3am

Just to do shots of juice in the parking lot

I kept going shot after shot

Missing the burn

Denying the ache I had in my chest seemed simpler

You drank the first one like you were taste testing a fine wine

Sips with smooth slurps and trying to decipher taste

Giggling as you described the flavor profile of mango juice

I felt my heart crash into your distractions like a meteor

You bubbled up knowing the momentary lapse in my strength

Stood no chance against your substitutions

I looked at you so enamored at the beauty of your shamelessness

Shots were not your specialty but You took the shot that I poured you

I tried to give you instruction hoping my impurity would help soothe you

You were cocky, self assured, Telling me you had taken a shot before

It was almost ludicrous to think of you rebelling

You, a picture of innocence and purity.

You coughed on your juice shot and it spewed all over

I burst out the seams with laughs that were too big for my body

Feelings that encompassed my being spilled out like overloaded luggage

A first lover who made me feel not afraid of being all that I was

In return for the courage you gave me

I taught you how to take shots

I taught you how to rebel

How could I not be your first love too

I took your first kiss

I was your first girlfriend

How bitter it tasted when I realized

I was just a rebellion you would eventually get over.