Love me different this time.

And all the days mix together on the canvas of my life. A blur like the taste of whiskey on my breath. Stains and drops all over my clothing. Reminding me of all I loved. The pictures play back in all the crevices of my brain—reminding me not to do it again. It floods in my blood stream, coursing through my body, calling me to something I’ve known. I tell myself it’s different this time. I drink another drink. I smoke a little smoke. I tell myself it’s fine. You’re so cold when you’re next to me—sometimes. There aren’t enough togethers. It feels like there aren’t enough kisses. Like I haven’t seen you enough or looked at you for long. I don’t want to feel like I might forget you. I want to get lost in your eyes. I don’t want to be found. All the days mix together. All over my clothing. I loved. Coursing through my body. It’s different this time.

xo, p.
7/7/2019

Edit [feelings]: somber, lonely.

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