UNTITLED TYPEWRITER POEM NO. FIVE

5

I know you love whiskey,
and I wish I didn’t.
I know you miss me,
and I wish I didn’t.
I miss you, too,
and I wish I didn’t.
But I do.
I miss you.
I miss the flask,
and I miss our past,
and I can’t have it.
I would give anything
to have another shot with you.
Or at you, maybe.
Cause I miss your lips,
and I wish I didn’t.
But I do.
I miss you.
Though, if we drank
and I could do
what I did with you again,
I wouldn’t.
And I wish I didn’t.
But I did.
And I miss you.

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