We fell asleep
less than four hours ago,
but yet here you are
heading out the door.

"That was fun"
is your weapon of choice,
inflicting pain
using only your voice.

I return to the mess
we made of my bed
with your final words
stuck in my head.

Too many drinks
and a lonely text in the night.
A vicious cycle
with no end in sight.

Opening up to you
when I'm far from sober
then piecing myself back together
once it's all over.