I want vodka
to wash away my thoughts.
So that I don’t have to even try
and be clever.
I want to look
like a fucking idiot
and try my best not to care
when you see me falling
into someone else’s arm
and act like it doesn’t hurt you.
I don’t want to wake up
in this bed
with a stranger by my side
and a headache in my heart
oh if i get up silently
and steal across this floor with bare
feet, maybe he won’t hear me leave.
Doesn’t matter
I’ll never see him again.
Even if he asked.
I dig my own grave
and I do this to myself
over and over again
like some sick game,
I know one day you won’t come back,
and maybe secretly
I don’t want you to.