The Alcoholic

I’m itching to get a hold of you,
Each of my limbs are shaking
For I want you back here with me,
I miss you,
The feeling of you on my lips
Or when I hold you in my hand
That’s what I want,
My fingers to interlock around you
But I must accept you are gone,
We weren’t supposed to be together,
You were bad for me,
But to me that was good,
You were the reason I got up.
My morning hello or evening goodnight.
Please come back,
I promise that was our last goodbye.