My favorite pastime is imagining
How you managed to stumble home
That night Whiskey left you alone,
shivering, white knuckled,
unable to remember how to spell your name.
My phone rang that night,
Although you never spoke to me after leaving
that slurred, three word voicemail.
Your laugh is a resident in my mind
And I know my name seems to sparsely visit yours
But I just can't bear the weight of emptiness anymore
After you replaced me
the same way you replace old bed sheets.
I just hope you'll one day know how it is
To be struck like a match
Just to be used and thrown away.