I am drunk and I am in love,
could there be a worse combination?
Liquor in my throat and smoke in my lungs,
I wonder how I got to be this weak.
Is love a weakness, I ponder
Is love a thing to hide with shame?
I know I don't hide my love for you,
but how can I? Something this strong cannot be masked,
especially not when I am looking at the bottom of a bottle of cheap wine.
We're fighting, that's why I'm writing.
If things were okay, there would be no needs for these words strung out in sentences addressed to nobody in particular.
I've messed up and you're angry and I was drinking to feel better but now I'm too ******* drunk to know what I've done and it's a hilarious paradox that my substance of choice to drown the negativity is also the cause of further problems between myself and the epicentre of my happiness.
Does this make sense?
Will you ever read this?
I ponder: Do you realise how much I adore you? Will you ever realise it?
I hope we make up soon. I miss you.