The holes in his heart became holes in his walls.
All night he stares at his ceiling
for he fears when he closes his eyes,
all that will fill his mind is the image of her face.
The taste of her lipstick stings his lips
and the way she smiled at him makes his eyes itch.
The touch of her fingers intertwined
in his makes his skin burn.
She is gone
and he waits for her to call.
Now he fears
she was never really his at all.
All that remains on his lips
is no longer the sweet sound of her name,
but the bitter taste of the whiskey
he drinks to try and forget,
and the sweet taste of her lipstick.
A flavor he would do anything to experience again.