i wrote
a little black book
but it was worth very little
because it was only about you
and i sketched
each existence
into the book so beautifully
but there's no way
to imprint the memory

i wish
i knew you all
better than i do
beyond "Unsure"
and all the things
i never bothered to find out

because miss billy got sad
because i was so out of character
and the vodka got mad
because i drowned myself too quickly
and i died a little
because i realized
i'm just as bad
as all of those guys from #3