Drugs and fucks

We sat at the bar
awkwardly, it was
always so difficult
to sit through every
guys pick up routine;

i guess you felt
the same way with
every girls sudden
drunken demeanour
around me.

I could never ask
about the lovely
bruises down your chest,

the ones you always
presented with a smile
when i tried to act
my best,

but i always
left that unsaid because
we made the best
conversations when
i left my insides so dead.

And i guess i remember
the sheets in tatters
from the nights that
were spent in indecency
the drugs and fucks
and all in between
but i guess with
my wrists in slits
it doesn't really matter,

i can always still hear you breathing
on the phone when i call,
but its not because you miss me,
if i can recall anything at all,

So i'll sit with you next to me
with my drink in hand
with a long sleeved shirt
and i'll smile again
and say that its been great