you smell of alcohol and self loath.

you're at the bottom of the bottle, again.... where you can't hear your conscious. where my words seem to get to you.

you don't let me come close to you. don't let me get to you. don't let me in.... yet even from here, i'm too close for comfort.

i tell you, people like you..... i prefer to love from a far and that's always the worst way to love.

but sometimes it's the only way to.

-sideline stories from a girl who spectated the man she loved self destruct in the personal inferno he created for himself.