And you have hurt me so many times the scar tissue on my heart is beginning to spell out your initials. Your smirk is expanding and retracting my lungs. You say you can’t be with me but you love me. That distance is the issue. Distance doesn’t stop you from loving me darling. I’ve started drinking vodka again. You hate it. So I thought I wouldn’t taste you in it. The sting when it hits the back of my throat feels like your regret of loving me. 200 and something miles between us, I’m not being exact the drink is blurring my ability to think. But I can still remember what it feels like when you call me baby.
—Maybe I won’t taste you in these bottles of red wine (via crackedwords)