I miss the taste of alcohol mixed with your sweat,
and the feel of your skin on mine as we first touched.
I can't bring myself to mourn the day we first met;
I can't bring myself to forget the way your skin blushed.

Our bodies were like puzzle pieces that badly entwined;
we didn't quite fit unless we forced it, and then the picture was wrong.
Still there was a beauty in the mistakes born of whisky and rhyme.
When we called it quits... There was regret when we both said goodbye.
There was regret when I went to your bed to give "us" one more try.
There was rage when I found that you weren't alone.