I only want to talk to you when I’m drunk,
Which is a shame since I’ve been drinking since you left me here,
I always thought myself better than the sobbing, broken hearted girl,
But you knew just the right way to break me,
Crying, clinging to harmful thoughts. Self-destruction in all the right ways
‘What if I could have made you stay? What if you aren’t even worth it?’
Sometimes I wish I had never had the pleasure of discovering you,
The things that make love so easy and difficult in the same breath,
(Yet most times I don’t know who I’d be if not for you)
What if I was never meant for more than a single night of passion?
A series of endless, one-night stands, under the illusion of finding the right one?
This temporary lust comes back to me every time my lips touch the edge of a bottle,
And all I’m left is this confusion and a headache.
You didn’t wait long to find another warm body,
Does she know that you walked out with my heart? Do you know?
Maybe not my whole heart, no, that is far to guarded for you to touch,
But maybe a piece, maybe a little more,
Just enough for me to feel this ache; for me to wonder what happened to the idea of an imagined romance
For I had once been a romantic, probably still am despite all these set backs,
And I believed in the small gesture of love,
Ones that were apparently beneath you and your need to impress.
But that is another story, one filled with far less regression and alcohol.
Here I am once again, my lips wrapped around a bottle,
Half wishing my mind to drift away from these thoughts,
Half needing them to stay and find the closure you never gave me;
Yet always coming back to the way you left me needing more and regretting wanting any less than what is in front of me,
Caught me in this whirlwind, its only a matter of time before you come to realize your mistake, and maybe it isn’t your fault;
Maybe you truly cannot see the crack that set off the damage in me,
Maybe it’s my fault for not making sure you were able to handle me in my entirety,
But regardless, the damage is done and my lips have clung to the edge of this bottle for longer than I’d like,
So let me swallow the liquor and be done with it,
And soon you will be a drunken night, a hangover just waiting to be cured,
Than I will be able to wake from this drunken stupor you’ve put me under.