You frown at the way I can drink whiskey without flinching. and every time I tell you. honey. I don't drink alcohol for the taste. If I did. I would have the taste of your smile down my throat every night. I would have every memory of us bottled. And I would drink them whenever you were gone. Which lately is a lot. so lately I drink more. the warmth of the whiskey when it hits my insides reminds of the first couple months with you. When you were sure. When we were good. When I was enough. Now I can't drink enough. Now we don't talk enough. Now is different. The only time I feel you. The real you. Is with my clothes on the floor. You get your fix. I'll get mine. I'll **** the stress out of you. And I'll drink the sadness out of me. The sadness you fill me with with how empty you leave me. I'm addicted to this whiskey. And to the way your hands grip my throat.