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Sometimes

I find myself

Sipping on your

Intoxicating memory

And I continue

To drink you in

Until I am

Drunk on you.



It is only

Through this

Impaired judgment

I am able to

Find clarity

Because I am

Reminded of your

Presence.



And when

This sensation

Subsides I find

My sobriety

Only means

Dealing with the

Afflicting hangover

Of your absence.



And once again

I will look

For the glass

Into which

I can pour in

Your memory  

To forget the pain

Of this void.



But this time

I find the glass

Along with my hope

Of your return

Shattered

On the ground

But I will still

Pick up the shards.



And I will try

To piece

These memories

Back together

Yet it is useless

Because the glass

Can never

Be complete again.