at fault

i've never drunk so early,

so alone.

i remember a time,

days in a row,

a bottle of merlot

and a memory of a girl.

but that was in night's embrace,

and the bright light

piercing through the blinds

still hurts

my gradually numbing face.

i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

he said; 'you were the real deal,

and if it feels like the end

well it's just a phase

like any other'

well i say i can't pretend.

and i can't stay and hurt

faultless lover.

can't find a way to compress myself

into an idea

of love's bliss

and perfection.

if, next september,

we'd grown in love together.

i'd have severed the ties

that tethered.

like ivy vines entwined,

and it would have been harder

to shake me from your heart

and mind.