The thing is that there was so much I could have done differently,
But it was too dark to see and the night was broken all over
So bits of it fell through, collapsed and disappeared, rose above the tide—
Every hour I asked myself where I was,
Every hour there was nothing to think but that you were there
And those were your arms, around the waist of somebody else.

You looked at me like we knew each other and I drank myself dry
There on the beach, I drank so everyone laughed at the things that I said
But there was still your mouth, blowing smoke rings, and your eyes cast sideways
As I threw rocks into the river instead of throwing myself,
And you asked me to come along with the rest, to one party, then the next one
For the life of me, was there another reason that I went?

The last party had two things to offer: strangers and bedrooms.
Everything else was empty beer cans and the way you looked at me.
I rose and fell like waves, I was somebody’s friend, then I was a drunken guest,
And I announced to the room that nothing mattered
Because my senses were flattened, somber; I knew I was there for one reason
I knew I’d laugh about it the next day and wonder why I hurt so badly.

But I am not strong enough to let it be; I was not so drunk that I couldn't hear you
I am not so healed that I don’t want you to want me.
On the contrary, think of me.
Think of me, please, miss my hands and my mouth and my sidelong lashes,
Swim through liquor by night until the morning cuts open your middle
Until you hurt in a way that is treacherous, blinding, until you’re left with nothing else.