the coffee-stained picture of us tells stories
stories of misery,
pain
but isn’t that what love is all about?

the coffee stained your face
like the alcohol to your mind

i can’t see you in the picture
i don’t see you in the picture anymore

its hidden on the pocket of my heart
the pocket that I swore,
i swore it wouldn’t fade

but I forgot your voice,
your face,
your eyes

it did fade.
and you knew it would.

liar.