AND SO IT IS...

Whiskey-Soaked-Lips

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

Why did you just stop …

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

There are texts I’ll never delete because they remind me of who I was willing to become for someone who wouldn’t do the same for me.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

You became a habit my heart couldn’t quit long after my mind understood the damage.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

I stopped rereading our messages when I realized I was the only one still looking for clues.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

You’re good at making me crave what you won’t give.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

If you have time to type all that, you have time to say: ‘I don’t care.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

Some men don’t ghost.

They drown you in logistics

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

“then repeat”

might be the most honest thing

you’ve ever said to me.

because that’s us, isn’t it?

me reaching.

you listing reasons.

me pretending i didn’t care.

you letting me.

then repeat.

i don’t even need closure anymore.

i need new habits.

i need my softness back

from the place i keep leaving it—

outside your door.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

i said: can i ask you a question?

and you said: yes sure.

then you panicked

and built a wall out of responsibilities

so i couldn’t get close enough

to ask anything that would require

a real answer.

and i did that thing i hate—

i swallowed my own need

and called it “never mind”

like i wasn’t bleeding in lowercase…

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

you said yes sure

like a door opening.

then you handed me

a clipboard of your life

and called it a conversation.

work. kids. guard. repeat.

i read it like fine print

and realized i wasn’t asking for time—

i was asking to matter.

and you answered

like i was an appointment

you couldn’t fit in…

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

I ache, he avoids.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

I wait for him…

He waits for me not to.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

I tried and I’ve tried again.

Text after text

Night after night

No bite.

Not yet .

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

Maybe if he saw me again,

he’d remember that I was the one who never made him chase,

and maybe that’s why he never stayed.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

He told me from the start he didn’t want love.

I heard him.

I just thought maybe I could make him change his mind

by being unforgettable.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

He never saw me the way I saw him.

But that doesn’t stop me from wishing he’d look again—

just once—

so I can stop pretending I don’t still crave the attention he never gave.

[whiskey-soaked-lips]

I tell myself I’m over him,

and then I start planning fake errands

in cities he might still exist in.