on this

What I want from this, is to learn to let go. No, not of you, of all that is old. Killers re-invent and believe, and it leans on me, like a rootless... So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and all you didn't do.- Damien Rice (Rootless Tree)
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Why did you ask me if I would ever use you?

My mind whirls as I try to figure it out-

I don't remember saying that.

You said it earlier. You asked if I was using you, if I would ever use you.

I wish I could come up with a coherent response, but as I sit here sprawled on a couch with my head resting on your chest, the high volume of 151 in my system prevents it.

I don't know, I don't remember,

I lament.

Well I wouldn't,

you tell me. It's as if it makes a difference. Deep down I know this is nothing, a friendship highlighted when alcohol courses through our veins. But I smile back at you anyway, I drink in the moment and the shots of rum placed in my hand. It's almost too easy-

too easy to fall for you, too easy to let it lie in limbo, too easy to convince myself I'm okay with everything and how it's all playing out. I continue to sit with you, and wonder what this is.

You're far too good at breaking hearts,

and it looks like mine is next on the list.