I like whiskey as it slips down my throat and hits me right in the stomach.
I can never have too much of it.
But I do anyway.
Because alcohol has a way of letting down your walls, loosing your inhibitions.
I don’t need it to write about you.
But it’s easier when it’s the only thing in my veins.
You asked me why you are not my muse. This is why… I didn’t want to feel like I used you and then discarded you.
But looks like you don’t have a problem with that. Use and throw.
You see I abandon myself after a few drinks with no hope of returning
Like a ship lost at sea because I felt like I lost my anchor.
Tree abandoned by its own roots.
My misplaced faith. The folly of youth.
You are not my anchor.
You are not my roots.
Somehow… I return I always return to myself.
With sleep covered eyes, banging headache and a new lover beside me.
I return because my feelings flicker like far away stars. Loved from a distance is what I prefer now. Admired for afar. In line of vision but out reach. Always burning but burning alone.
You are just a guy who didn’t know love, all or nothing love, inconvenient love.
Yes, whiskey tastes bitter but your leaving is more bitter.
It’ll always be.
Pic credit- Everybodylovescocktails and RantNow