pouring bottles of vodka down the drain,
every time i cried about you,
thought about you,
dreamed about you
it's getting poured down the drain right now,
everytime i watched porn,
i touched myself
i moaned
just the last few drips of the vodka is left
every time i waited for you,
the bottle is empty
just like how i feel empty
right now
where did it all go wrong for it to be like this?
YOU ARE READING
jar of hearts (a poetry story)
Poetrywho do you think you are? running around with a jar of hearts?
