I thought I might drink myself to death,
and see where that got me,
maybe you’d come back,
racked with regret,
if there was nothing,
nobody to come back to.
I told you I loved you,
with an honest smile,
so many times,
that it just became a habit,
a reflex,
intuitively inserting itself into my vocabulary,
when I thought of you,
and now,
I have these words,
that sound weird in my mouth,
because I know they belong to you,
but I know that I can’t let you have them.
I think I was intruding,
as you found another me.
I was tipsy,
boozed up,
brave,
locked up,
leaving my inhibitions,
and common sense on the kitchen side,
typing out a subtler form of
“Excuse me, he’s mine”.
I don’t know if you ever were,
or if I was just your winter romance,
darling distraction,
something to do,
until doomsday came,
and you decided you wanted something new.
I told you,
that you were cruel.
You couldn’t take it.
Turning away from the term,
as if it wounded you.
I was a wounded, wistful, wasted thing,
just asking for a refund,
on those lost months,
and the heart I had hastily given you.
Great post 😁
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