There is so much pain built up as I type endlessly at 2 am.

If keyboards could bruise, it would be entirely purple.

My love for you was not poetic.

It was the worst way to pass time as I grew apart from everyone else.

I searched for the best but all you knew how to do was show the worst.

You did not know how to love but played it off.

So while the bourbon tries to leave my system im sure another girl is trying to leave your room.

You said what we all wanted to hear but your loyality was stripped years ago.

And one day you dropped me off at the edge of town and never came back.

The long walk back only taught me one thing.

No amount of alchohol could erase the time I put into loving you.

No amount of brunches with the girlfriends I have neglected would help me forget the feeling of abandonment.

So my hand remains glued to a glass of the hardest I can find.

My coping method was not healty 

But then agian, neither was he.