so why I'm waiting.

For you to knock at the door, for me to get my hopes up, to give you another chance, to hand you the knife so you can take another stab at my heart. I slam the door at the thought of you being apart of my life. You don't and will never deserve a second chance, you let the situation of intoxication ruin us. And I'm not going to in good sober standing let you back in. Those chants of love and desire were all fueled by liquid courage. You still disgust me, and I hope the door slams your fingers or possibly more on your way out of my life.