The sadness tears at my insides tonight
There is an aching and a burning in the holes you used to occupy
I cannot keep trying to fill them with whiskey
But at least they feel less empty when I’m high-
When I’m laughing, smiling, flirting
My anxiety has been pushed to the wayside as depression seeps through my veins.
I do not feel nervous as the bartender asks me what I’d like next.
“More, please” meaning my jack and coke, but also more numb. More empty.
As I swallow down thoughts of you I let my mind wander
Maybe I’ll start smoking cigarettes and kissing strangers on the street-
Maybe I’ll curl in a ball in the shower, again tonight,
Choking on my tears and gasping for air.
There you are again.
How painful it is to be so close to you,
And to feel nothing.
I found your love letters in the trash today
I wonder if the ghosts that have haunted this place for two weeks snuck them in there.
Or perhaps, it was me.
Maybe, I am the haunted house. Filled with the ghosts of loving you.