Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
If love had another name, you could be it. I realized this last night when I was drinking. I was emptying beer bottles. I was trying to silence every beat of my heart that was still rooting for you. I was trying to forget. I was convincing myself that I can. I kept drinking that I confused myself if I were drinking to forget your name or was I just drinking to numb the pain. For each bottle, I thought of all the pair of lips I would want to forget. I wanted to forget theirs just to taste yours again. For each beer bottle I kissed, was a wish to kiss you instead. For each bottle, lies an irony. I was drowning my liver but thoughts of you kept afloat in my mind. I was clouding up my mind with a clear painting of your smile yet whatever was left of us remained unclear. I thought I was waiting on you but it seems you have already walked away. I guess after fighting through all these ironies and drinking too much beer, I soon came to a conclusion. It wasn't love that was complicated. Maybe it was just us.
0
Jan 9
Jan 9, 2026 at 2:48 AM UTC
Dear Complicated,
If love had another name, you could be it. I realized this last night when I was drinking. I was emptying beer bottles. I was trying to silence every beat of my heart that was still rooting for you. I was trying to forget. I was convincing myself that I can. I kept drinking that I confused myself if I were drinking to forget your name or was I just drinking to numb the pain. For each bottle, I thought of all the pair of lips I would want to forget. I wanted to forget theirs just to taste yours again. For each beer bottle I kissed, was a wish to kiss you instead. For each bottle, lies an irony. I was drowning my liver but thoughts of you kept afloat in my mind. I was clouding up my mind with a clear painting of your smile yet whatever was left of us remained unclear. I thought I was waiting on you but it seems you have already walked away. I guess after fighting through all these ironies and drinking too much beer, I soon came to a conclusion. It wasn't love that was complicated. Maybe it was just us.
proseache
Written by
Jan 9
Jan 9, 2026 at 2:48 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem