NSFW 🙃

One shot

The liquor rushes down my throat,

a slow burn spreading through my stomach.

An empty stomach;

the effects hit instantly.

Two shots

My bladder loosens.

I need to pee

but I can hold it.

Three shots

The burn lingers.

I like it.

But it’s fading,

leaving behind something else.

Something I can’t name yet.

Four shots

It tastes like water now.

An eerie feeling creeps in,

like something is about to happen.

Five shots

Oh, right—

that weird feeling.

I still need to pee.

Six shots

No… I already did.

But that’s not it.

The past is creeping back in.

Uninvited.

Seven shots

“If you drink enough vodka, it’ll taste like love.”

I keep replaying our past,

the one I swore I’d buried.

Eight shots

Light-headed.

Full-headed;

Memories flood in,

but I can’t tell which ones.

I know I’m buzzed.

Nine shots

I wonder if you remember me.

Ten shots

…

Eleven shots

My speech slurs.

This vodka—

it’s starting to taste like love.

“Si tomas suficiente alcohol… se siente como amor…”

I’ve heard that before.

Twelve shots

My steps feel wrong.

Am I forgetting how to walk?

Thirteen shots

What are you doing right now?

Should I call?

Fourteen shots

2 AM.

The silence of loneliness

keeps me company;

alongside this bottle.

Fifteen shots

Another flashback of you…

I don’t miss you.

I don’t.

I’m over you.

Sixteen shots

No—

I’m just not over the pain.

The trust you shattered.

The trauma of handing someone your heart,

only to watch them drop it,

leave it behind to wither and die.

Seventeen shots

My vision blurs.

My legs—spaghetti.

Eighteen shots

I’m forgetting how to walk.

I dnt thnk I cn spel.

I think—forgot gramer.

Nineteen shots

Where am I?

Twenty shots

I’m staring to forget myself.

Did I spell that right?

Starring?

No—

Starting.

Yeah, there we go.

Twenty-one shots

All I can think of is you.

I’ve forgotten myself—

but not you.

So I’ll keep drinking.

Maybe I’ll burn the memories of you,