my friends told me that a shot of liquor would be enough to wash all the pain away. so i went to the nearest store, bought the cheapest gin they had and went home. i had all day and night to bleach all the painted smiles in the walls of this barely beating heart. i called some of my closest friends to be with me. minutes i did, they came. they brought more alcohol and packs of cigarettes.
my friends told me that a stick of cigarette would be enough to wash all the pain away. so i took one from the cellophane they brought and lit it over the stovetop. i had all day and night to make my lips stop saying your name and stop fooling myself into believing that there's this chance of you loving me back.
my friends gave me philosophies that i never really understood. they kept on giving me advices they know i won't really apply. but i still thanked them for that. i thank them for introducing me to things that make me forget you even if it's only momentary. because, for sure, when i wake up, it'll be you that'll pop first thing on my head again. and that'll hurt much more than a hangover could ever give.
my friends once told me that a shot of liquor and a stick of cigarette would be enough to wash all the pain away, but now that i'm already addicted, why is it still you?
