Sweet On My Soul

It was getting close to eleven.
I could barely hear you speak,
but I didn’t need to, because I could hear my heart pounding and that was enough.
Parties were never the place for me,
but I swallowed my second thoughts until they were so small, and I showed up,
rewarded by flat drinks and Taylor Swift’s early records being blasted through cheap speakers,
so I felt a little like it wasn’t worth it,
until it was getting close to eleven,
and your arms wrapped around my waist,
kisses, sweet on my shoulders,
sweet on my soul.