i don't drink like anybody else
i don't drink to forget the pain
i drink to forget things about myself,

like how it must've been my fault
that you were never your whole
until you've lost control.

now i'm standing under the moon
my thoughts seemed faded and worn;
can i see you soon?

if not;
if you say you already have plans
for today,
then

i'm ready to drink
i'm waiting to drown,
and in a blink
i'll see you in my dreams.

you remind me of cold coffee;
tasted nice the day before
but left too long overnight
caught my eyes as i closed the door:
just sitting there
a dull, bland shade of brown
still awaiting my impulse for caffeine,

and afterwards when you're finished:
bitter,
tasteless,
nothing like what you once were,
left me disgusted about myself.