I speak, but it's all too late
Too little, or too much
You are vague, like overcast days
Empty, or not enough
I'm holding on as if it helps
Your warmth, my touch
My words are all I've got to myself
You're fine, I'm drunk
I'm sleepless, frustrated, and past exhaustion
I'm an asshole, you're a lush
I waited up for you to give in
So in vain I freely spill my guts
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