yes it filled my throat with molten rock, hardening & re-melting with every rush of smoke to my head it itched like a tattoo eight days out, like a twice-ripped-open scab that’s finally learned how to hold on, it itched like recovery itches & it was deafening & suffocating but somehow I could still sing Shania & Florence knowing every word was true 

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it hurt like you did this you broke me & here you are, stranger, three feet away it hurt like give me another hit so i can stand to sit here next to you it hurt like what the fuck it hurt like i missed you it hurt like where have you been it hurt like you’re not the person i used to love like that 

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it hurt like except

you are 

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it hurt like it killed me (and then it didn’t) it hurt like you’re still the only thing that makes words pour out of me like ink from a needle it hurt like you cured my writer’s block, goddamn it it hurt like seeing your friend shake on the tattoo table it hurt like i want coffee but nothing is right it hurt like being drunk and regretting it it hurt like being hungover & lied to it hurt like broken promises it hurt like see you in three weeks (and then i didn’t)