Shot I:
He wishes to
forget the moment he first met her
He wishes he
couldn’t remember the colour of her eyes.
Shot II:
The tequila stings
his throat and burns his lungs
But nothing hurts
quite as bad as losing her.
Shot III:
The tequila tasted
like acid,
But not quite as
corrosive as the taste of regret on his tongue.
Shot IV:
He wonders how
many shots he has left to take
Before it’s
acceptable to send her a text saying, “I miss you.”
Shot V:
He knows he should
take it easy on the shots
But he never
listened to himself, not when it came to her.
Shot VI:
She was both
harmless and dangerous,
The perfect mix of
intoxication.
Shot VII:
He begins to feel
sick, nauseous,
Like the moment he
realized she was doing him more harm than good.
Shot VIII:
He feels the urge
to puke
He wants to puke
every thought of her out of his system.
Shot IX:
The restroom reeks
of piss and alcohol,
But he could have
sworn he was breathing in the scent of her sickening-sweet perfume.
Shot X:
He hurls the
remnants of his dinner
And his distorted
memories of her down the toilet-bowl.
Shot XI:
The tequila tasted
nothing like
The sweet,
enticing lies of happily ever after she had promised him.
Shot XII:
Maybe he was
addicted to her
Or maybe he was
addicted to her lies, he couldn’t tell which was more toxic.
Shot XIII:
He wishes he couldn't remember the moment he first met her
He wishes to
forget the colour of her eyes.
Shot XIV:
Fourteen shots
And yet he still
stops short at the thought of her.
