Regret of the Drunken Text

Let's be insecure together.
Just 2 pathetic people,
Walking in a public place,
Embarrassed to be seen holding hands.

You say I smell bad. My breath stinks.
You want to pick my pimple till it bleeds.
I say be with me. Let's live like this,
Inflicting ourselves on each other.

We'll lay every emotional trap we know
To keep the other from running away.
You'll stuff phallic veggies in the blender
While staring through me absentmindedly.

I'll stand in for your abusive father.
After some cathartic moment, we'll hug
While I strum your back like a no-string guitar,
Thinking about work and peanut butter.

We'll make love like sitcom eye-rolls,
Like one of grandpa's racist jokes.
Or else masturbate side by side,
Lost in our respective fantasies...

We'll be pale, immobile sacs of cheese!
Who can't move too much, or the cheese will come out.
They say the moon is made of mozzarella...
Well then, my love, you are the moon.

Although we hate ourselves, not so each other,
And I'll gladly be your scapegoat if it means
Submerging my sadness in your heavy cream.
Because everything you touch turns to nice,

Because you're the anti-annoying ointment
I smear all over my day! Listen to me!
You're icky. I'm itchy. We can start a club
For rubbing rashes on each other.

We won't even try to be happy.
Just 2 old fashioned losers,
Postponing our suicides. But hey, enough
Self loathing and anything is possible...

So come here. Let me warm you with my fake arm.
You say my eyelashes look like butt hair?
They're puckering for you. Know what that is?
That's love, baby. Gas seeping out of my eyes...