Nothing

You can only tell me that you love me when you’ve been drinking.

Sinking in to liquid courage is your favorite flavor of coward-ness.

Is the fact that you might actually love me hard to swallow, like a lime slice down the bottleneck of your beer?

What the fuck are we even doing here?

Why do you decide to love me when I’ve already let go?

The sinking ships of lost loves and I tied you to the bed in the belly of the beast.

I dug, and I dug, and I fucking dug trying to find you inside yourself.

Gooey cookies crumbling in my hand like you have everyday since we slept together again.

You’re weak.

But somehow you’re strong enough to turn me against myself.

Like I’m the only one on the shore watching the shipwreck finding delight in the disaster.

I can’t look away from everything that I’ve lost. I just want to look ahead, but I can’t stop staring at everything that’s dead.

Dreams, best friends, and Dad. I string them together and tie them around my waist.

Collecting the last breaths of the lost and putting them in my pockets. Floating away to a happier place.

Is this how healing is supposed to taste?

Like sterile rooms and questions like “.. but how are you feeling?”

Pill bottles on the counter collecting dust because that’s a pill that I will not swallow.

My once full soul is now hollow.

I became flooded with sorrow and I fight every single day to see tomorrow.

I fought every single day.. to love you. But you didn’t love me.

So don’t come around here saying “we.”

We are nothing but a host to a collection of memories will only know us as.. nothing.