Chain smoking menthols,
Gulping Vodka neat,
Biting lemons,
And thinking of you.
Every night I enter
Another mental void
Blocked by deafening music
And think of you.
I look down to my fingers
Curled around a tumbler,
Take another poisoned drag,
And think of you.
My nails are over-bitten,
The cuticles sharp and painful,
Like our love,
And I think of you.
A leather rough voice
Breezes across my neck,
Asks for a dance,
And I think you.
The usual answer,
And the quick brush off
Stall on my lips
As I think of you.
Tonight I’m just too alone,
The ring on my finger
Melts like hot wax
And I don’t think of you.
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