I hung onto the words you said,
The promises you made but didn’t understand then,
The future we spoke about;
One you no longer want to be in.
I cried like a little girl when you left,
As if abused by her favorite nanny;
The only one who would play house with her,
Or when her beloved dad went to war,
And never came home.
I spent 240 nights downing cheap bottles of wine,
In the exact same bed we fought,
And made love,
Where you wiped away my tears and held me near,
Safe and sound like a baby in your arms.
I sold myself to little bags of happiness,
When Vodka and Whiskey ceased to do its magic.
It came in the form of pale white powder,
Sometimes little shards of see-through crystals.
Six times out of ten,
I see your face in my hallucination.
I slept in the homes of men who can’t settle nor commit,
Whose family I knew nothing about,
But it didn’t matter then,
Their lips tasted just like you.
Oh how I wished they were you.
I miss you.