champagne tears fall in my glass for you,
I can hear myself running out of breath momentarily,
seeking peace in the false clarity that clouds my head,
the ghost of you; it remains in my broken mind.

poured myself a drink of dead love,
it took one shot of bad love to make me write,
put the romance to bed,
funeral for the lust,
not even death will make me stop,
I'm a mess for your heart.

drunken words, honest thoughts,
you're the subject no matter which.

masochistic, fragile-cryptic-
messages of deep thought,
love feels like a sinful need,
when you're so far from my heart.