Nothing can dismantle me more than the wicked bitter sentiment of longing, the decomposition of my being that counts the second for the day you fix me,
the sweat on my brow in the morning from dreams of you, the smokey echoing memories of the past,
the loud promises we made that are still ringing, the sweet vowels that rolled off your tongue like honey,
the pronunciation of my name: a warm bath you could blanket yourself completely in as you simply go under.
Drown in it if you could, I would hold my breath forever.