I’ve replaced the feel of your fingers in-between mine with cigarettes. I’ve replaced the feel of...

I’ve replaced the feel
of your fingers in-between
mine with cigarettes.
I’ve replaced the feel
of your mouth pressed
against mine with shots
of whiskey to wash out
your taste. I’ve replaced
your love that sat
in the pit of my stomach
with coffee. I do these
self-destructive things
to myself because
I’m trying to rid of you.
But no matter how many
cigarettes I smoke, shots
I chase, and cups of coffee
I drink, I still cannot
seem to rid you
from my body.