Past, Present, Future

14 shots of vodka taste better than the memory of you on my lips

the very thought of you coats my tongue, and I can never taste love the same way again


the song that is being overplayed on the radio feels better than our song played only once

with the sound of my skin turning yellow for you, my liver gives itself up as a token of your love


the emails reminding me about my debt are better than the email you sent to me, ending it all in an instant, electronic, self-destruct button

with the paragraphs that pleaded your apologetic devotion for me, claiming you still loved me


the blood being taken out of my body every year for tests satisfies me more than you ever did

with the clean results, I still never felt pure enough for you


you, first love, you are the ghost of my past, present, and future

reminding me of what I must never dare relive


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