If war was a place you visited on weekends, and peace was 8 hours of quiet, what would love be?

Where would we find it?

If an empty bottle wasn't a place to sleep or a way out.
A cigarette would be a frustration, not a Pacifier.
A long night would be a necessary part of growing up.
A short day would be a waste of time.
Minutes crawl by like days, and days pass by like not at all.
Poison is a synonym for recreation.
Son and Bastard both sound like decent things to be considered.
We would wake up to the sound of a Dobro and a sad song.
We would sleep the whole night through without nightmares and turmoil.

...Where are we.
not a question, because I know you couldn't answer.
but if you ask me why I'm so cold, I will answer:
Your sweat has evaporated from my skin and your kiss has rubbed from my lips onto those of so many others. I'm feeling empty because you aren't inside me anymore.

you're breaking up and I can't tell if your saying "come home" or "leave me alone"
I'll come home, just to be sure, but something tells me he'll answer the door in his boxers and tell me to go,
then laugh as my eyes drown your not-so-welcome mat.

If pain was a drink, we could clear out the bar with our story.
If sitting quiet and heartbroken was a sport, I'd be MVP and you'd lead the league in assists.

You wonder, where would love be?
You can still find it in me.