It.

...

So there we were.

I and IT. Like old times.
It had done it again and was devastated about it.
I snickered to myself.
It's tears diluted my drink in an appalling way.
I  refilled.
It looked for comfort.
I had smart alecky unfunny comments.
It asked why again?
I shrugged.
It shattered it's glass. Like it was itself.
I picked up a piece and killed it.
It slept, in peace now.
I woke up.

Parts

Written words which mess with my head

Elegant fingers on the fretboard

Uncalculated gestures

Possessive consciousness

Perfect harmonies

Exhilarated laughter

Inebriated clarity

Familiar scents

Easy smiles

I love in parts and fragments,

it's comfortable.

and frustrating.