I'm lost in the land of whiskey and lies
trying to refamiliarize my hands with your skin
its been months
maybe years
since we've touched
each shot makes it that much harder
to remember
the freckle on your wrist
the creases in your palms
I can't seem to recall
and I was never a fan of alcohol
but forgetting for a night was never as bad
as remembering the next morning
waking to an empty bed and aching heart
breaking bones and throwing stones
didn't even come close
to the relentless pain
washing me away
with the january rain
that made a home inside your veins
and in a way
this makes me miss you more