I looked up at your window, pretended I could see you. You don’t live there anymore.
My mind wanders and I get lost in thoughts of you. I sleep to escape, because drinking kills you anyway, so why when I wake, does my heart still ache? Your cup is still on the window sill. I’ll bring myself to move it soon, but until I do, I’ll get lost in thoughts of you.
You made the best impression, perfection on the page. The wildest of hearts will never be tamed.