UNMADE MESSY SHEETS, SNEAKING AROUND, THE STASH OF BOTTLES IN OUR CLOSETS, THE WAY YOU KISSED ME LIKE YOU NEEDED IT, THE WAY YOU SCREAMED AT ME LIKE YOU HATED ME, THE WEEKS OF SILENCE, THE RELAPSE, THE NIGHTS YOU DRANK TOO MUCH, THE NIGHTS WE BOTH DRANK TOO MUCH, THE NIGHT YOU GOT HOOKED ON SOMETHING STRONGER, THE MORNING I REALIZED I WAS HOOKED ON YOU. BLOODSHOT EYES AND ADDICTIONS AND SCREAMING TILL OUR LUNGS GAVE OUT. THAT WAS OUR LOVE. THAT WAS ART. FLEETING, DISAPPEARING, FUCKING TERRIFYING. I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN A WHILE, I DON'T THINK YOU'VE SEEN YOURSELF EITHER. I HAVEN'T FELT ANYTHING IN A WHILE, NOT SINCE YOU LOST YOURSELF.
