I wake up alone, tangled in sheets that still smell like you.
Fingers grasp for familiar finger prints
and stomach acid whirls as
my brain regurgitates the flashes of you
and I remember the thing I drank to forget.
Bile rises as your face swims before
my forever blurred vision,
I reach the trash in time to empty my stomach of
"I just don't love you anymore."
clutching my head to stop the pathetic wailing
of "don't leave me", forgotten in the frantic rush for stale vodka and
borrowed cocaine smiles.
My phone reverberates against the cold tile
you're name flashing to make sure I am still breathing
and with fresh vodka on my breath, I swear you can smell it,
I whisper "I don't fucking need you"
I kiss the mouth of the bottle like it is you're lips giving me escape for
i am not ready to remember the thing i drank to forget about.