Sometimes I drink,
to numb the pain
Or to feel something outside
of the murky, grayish
lonely ticking
That replaced my heart’s beating

But the funny thing is,
and always seems to be
When I drink to make you foggy
you just become more in focus
While your sorry, belligerent
excuses replay in my head

Over and over
until I’m forced to forget
my reasons for hating you
and join you in bed.