i have been staring at the empty bottle,
i almost drowned myself today,
the ache has been unbearable,
and it ripples through my clothes like an echo in an empty cave.

and you are the reason i feel like this,
you gave me roses but stuck me with the thorns,
and now it is 4 a.m
and i am crying on my kitchen floor.

you used to light up a fire in me,
but now i am almost always cold;
my wrists look too thin for the weight of my world.

and yes, i am ashamed.
but maybe it is just me and my blind optimism to blame.