Loving you was
the veins full of
Percocet,
Bad decisions and empty words.
Used our pasts to cure our presents,
Or to numb the pain
Enough to make it to sunrise.

Loving you was
The liquor lies we told
That burned my throat raw
When they asked about us.
Silent swears and repentance.
"Tomorrow."

Her eyes had cast down,
burning into the tiles below,
I didn't know white linolium flecked with black spots could be so interesting.

But to her they were.

To her it was more important,
to prove how much I meant,
by showing interest in a
dirt smudged walkway,
over sharing a passing glance at me.