I Don't Want to Call It Love

I would rather read Bukowski get drunk and smoke cigars in places where smoking is beyond forbidden

Let the whisky write the poem about your lips and let me call it love

While crying through all the thoughts I had but never mentioned

I breathe in the smoke and get intoxicated

Cry them over the unwritten pages of my notebook and smile and die over your blue eyes

I burn the cigars until I ruin myself and get invisible in the fog

Loving you was quite easy

Missing you was not

I wish you missed me too