Fuck, I've gone and done it again,
Gone and poured me a drink I hate for certain,
A tall glass of whiskey, 3 cubes of ice,
Why does this taste like a woman's spite?
The amber liquid, a bitter reminder
Of the love that once burned like fire,
Now a charred memory, a scar left behind,
I take another sip, hoping to leave it all behind.
The whiskey stings like her sharp tongue,
Each sip a sting, a pain that lingers on,
A reminder of the warmth that once was there,
Now replaced by a cold, empty stare.
The clink of ice breaks my reverie,
I raise my head up to see multiple glares,
Oh I forgot to mention I was sitted across from my accusers,
"You hurt her first" they said, "You ruined it" they said,
Like it was okay for her to wrench my heart out, ...