My throat aches from goodbyes I've held
behind my teeth; I'll never tell.
The friends I miss say, "See you in Hell."
Without a word uttered from their lips.
Contain it in my stomach; a terrible acid.

So I'm drinking, honey.

I sit on my bed, pictures in my hands,
and a bottle looming on my nightstand.
I read once honey can soothe
rough words into sweet and smooth,
tooth-rotting platitudes.

So I'm drinking honey.

There's no way to fix the tears I made
pieces of film fall from my hands.
Onto my floor, I know what to do,
I lift my rug and I grab a broom.
What good are these to me and you?

Stop drinking honey!
Stop drinking, honey!