I don't know where you are tonight
but the air in my room tonight just feels a little bit heavy
and I'm a little but drunk
and I can't stop listening to the last voicemail you left me
and thinking about how cliche it is that it's you telling me you loved me
and how you always knew I loved cliche things
but my blanket still doesn't feel heavy enough
and the window I left open for you is letting cold air in
and I can't stop wasting my 11:11 wishes on trying to  feel you fall out of love with me like the life draining from a car crash victim instead of the desperation of the lover having to watch from behind the caution tape
Does that make sense?
I haven't been making much sense at all lately
I hope you think of me when you're drunk
I think you at least owe me that
I loved you
I really ******* loved you
I still ******* LOVE YOU
WHERE ARE YOU
I miss you.
All these people are worried about me
I'm fragile I guess I
have to be worried about
They keep telling me that
time heals all wounds
But it still hurts to breathe whenever I smell Indian chai tea
with too much milk
And not quite enough sugar
And I can still see the
scar on my left knee from
Where you scratched me
I got so mad when you did that
I'm sorry I got mad
I'm sorry
I'm just so sorry.