My favorite pastime is imagining How you managed to stumble home That night Whiskey left you alone, shivering, white knuckled, unable to remember how to spell your name. My phone rang that night, Although you never spoke to me after leaving that slurred, three word voicemail. Your laugh is a resident in my mind And I know my name seems to sparsely visit yours But I just can't bear the weight of emptiness anymore After you replaced me the same way you replace old bed sheets. I just hope you'll one day know how it is To be struck like a match Just to be used and thrown away.