Thirst

He kept pouring pegs of whiskey              
one after the other                        
Alas,
It would never quench                    
the thirst called
Not being loved.

He could hear her heartbeats
long after she had gone
Little did he realize
That he had grown
so used to the voice of their beats together,
that he couldn't tell her's from his'.

And that what he heard,
wasn't her's.
But his own.


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