she had left me with nothing more than a t-shirt and shitty heartfelt rambles via text. nothing to remember her by other than the burning taste of whiskey and cigarettes. I switched to the brand she buys so maybe the scent of stale smoke would help it feel like she was still there. the taste is something I can’t stand but it’s no worse than the taste of loneliness she left me with. I can’t stand the smell of whiskey but each drink reminds me of those drunken nights we spent together. always ended up in her bed, but gone before noon. neither of us would say anything as we wouldn’t see each other soon. she got sick of me. she told me she wouldn’t but they always do. empty words spoken through believable lips. each phrase feels like poison in my veins, yet I keep rereading them. for pain is all she left me with, and my lungs can hardly breathe. at least this way I’ll remember her, and have some sort of relief. maybe it was less about love and more about aggression. all I know is this came with no lesson. left with hatred and a hollow heart where her name used to be. now filled with a false sense of security due to my whiskey filled delusions, about how now I’m set free. as hard as I try, no degree of intoxication could convince me that I’m fine.
after all, it was my fault. you were never even mine.