nostyle

i exhaled and watched my breath grow on the window and disappear accordingly. god only knew how long i had been there, sitting in that same seat since you left me there. long enough for the window to leave a red mark on my forehead; long enough for my heart to separate a bit; long enough to sober up; long enough for the street lights to come on. the waitress refilled my water for the fifth time in an hour and i took that last thing i had left of you. bottle to palm, palm to mouth, down the throat. i remember all the past arguments over it; you would always spit at me 'too much' but i always could convince with simple pleadings of how you knew