You uploaded your data directly under my skin Crossed my wires, stored your files Maybe I did that, I don’t remember; I was too drunk off of the whiskey-sweat that beads up on your flesh
Tongue acidic and raw Throat burning Bile in my stomach churning just like the taste of your name
and the last two times I’ve placed your hand ‘round my neck I clasped my fingers ‘round the neck of a bottle Downed it, drowned in it Trying to delete your files I thought I had heaved them up later that night when I laid my head down upon the trash bin to admire my spewed and skewed works of art, but the next morning I found you, still in my bottle of a heart