I used to love drinking and I think you had a thing for vomiting. You were always on drugs, until the end of last summer. From that point on I've only shared one glass of champagne with you. We were both high when we first kissed and neither of us have smoked **** since.

We have been on a much heavier drug from that night on.

(Or at least I like to think so even though you always say you only quit because you can't afford smoking these days)

I'm sleeping on the sofa under a blanket at 3:42pm and yeah I'm quite warm but I left the door open for you

The house is cooling down, the door has been open for five weeks now but thank God I've learned to set a fire on my own

The fire is fading because it is snowing through the door even though it's almost April and everything outside is grey just like your eyes

We were never good at promises, or letting go, or staying, or maintaining the right temperature for us, or maybe even being together

But I'm not closing the door

You said you'd come home

I wish I was a little less in love with you, that's all.

It's been a while now,
not too long though -
18 nights to be exact.

And I know this night
I will wake up at 4am again
just to hear you not breathing next to me.

And I know next morning
I will wake up wondering
if you woke up next to her.

And I know tomorrow afternoon
you will ask me how I've been
like you never knew me enough to know the answer.

I burned my lips
for the coffee was too hot this morning
again.

But I'm fine with that
for it felt better than anything else I've been feeling
recently.

You chose to be with her,
and that is very much alright,
and now I have this new sense of freedom

I feel like I could run to anyone or anywhere

But what makes this so ****** up
is that I'd still run back to you.

I'd rather be sober with you
than drunk with the rest of the world.