a greesy hamburger wrapper
lies under the back seat
of your mother's car,
where you fucked your girl last night.
Rap blares on the radio,
the pounding bass splitting your skull.
you're still so dead drunk,
you can hardly see.
Where are you?
you don't know
Where is She?
did you take her home?
or did you not make it that far?

Why are you in a forrest?
Is that your girlfriend's blood
on the trunk of that tree?

"What the FUCK did I do last night?"

Good Mourning America


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