dear former lover:

     i'm just drunk enough that my earlobes feel like nothing when i pinch them
     and my skin feels like it's phasing in and out of existance & i'm drinking
     the remnants of someone else's wine, chugging back the half-empty or half-
     full bottles left on the table, reaching out for the point where my vision
     turns into a strobe light, blacking and whiting as i turn my head & the thing
     is i did really feel sick to my stomach that morning, but i think part of it
     was because i saw your hickey. yeah i saw the hickey, i know i didn't say
     anything, but i did see it, and i thought it was kind of funny that i saw it
     between periods of your tongue coaxing blood up to the surface of my neck &
     in the end i would have been okay with you making out with other people i
     just wanted to know that you actually liked me & does that make me weak? i'm
     sorry. it's cliché to be drunk and sorry and missing you but i am drunk, i am
     sorry, and i am missing you, and if i could take anything in my life back it
     would be telling you i love you, not because i didn't (shit) but because i
     think it scared you away & the playlist i named after you starts off really
     happy and then rollercoaster rolls up and down, through the emotions of
     sadness and euphoria, highs and lows, blissful mania and shaking withdrawal.
     look-- look-- i want to be stoned out of my mind, watching the city lights
     float by me, but instead i'm saddrunk & i've never been saddrunk before but
     i think i'm surrounded by people who don't like me and they're talking about
     sex and i just want your mouth on mine. i'm drunk and my cheeks are numb and
     i'm sorry and i miss you. anyway what i wanted to say was "hope you're getting
     stoned and hooking up with girls way way prettier than i am" but that comes
     off pretty bitter, doesn't it? i'm not bitter, or i am but that's okay because
     i'm still sweet. i am a grapefruit & i am drunk & i am sorry & i miss you &
     what i sort of want to say now is that there's this girl in my class who i
     really like and how would you feel if i kissed her for an hour on the couch?
     remember when you used to pretend to be jealous of my friends whenever i hung
     out with them because you wanted to be around me? i liked that a lot & does
     that make me weak? & i'm sure you're one of those girls who doesn't have
     regrets even if that's just because you get too high to remember the bad
     choices you made but do you regret me? i can't feel my face & i'm smiling now.
     i'm sorry. i miss you. i don't need you anymore. i'm done. saddrunk. fuck you.

     using intoxication as an excuse to be honest,
     one of your small mistakes