“My lips touch the edge of the glass and I can feel your cold lips pursing against mine.

With my fingers, I traced the brim of the glass. It’s like I’m reminiscing your body’s curves.

I sip my wine—tasting the rushing blood of your veins.

My mouth heated up as I taste the red liquid.

I swallowed it—drowning my pride.

As it flows down my throat, I can feel the heat of your body and the beat of your weary heart.

I own you. Forever.” 

“Here I am cuddling myself on the floor; endlessly begging that my tears will stop falling down.

My trembling fingers are pressed against the brown tinted-bottle.

I opened the cap of it and the smell infected my system—taking a whiff of your irresistible scent.

I lifted the bottle towards my lips—like your lips touched mine.

The liquid enters my mouth and I swallowed it—engulfing my depressed ego.

It pinched my throat as it plunges its hundreds needles on it, I can feel the touch of your body against mine and the beat of your weary heart.

I love you. I always will.