Weird Wednesday Love Poem No. 7

Text of poem without formatting:

We broke up

thirty-three days,

eight hours, and

twenty-six minutes

ago.

I have vomited

nineteen times

since then.

If I just keep drinking

this particular whiskey 

you liked so much - 

you know,

the one they age

in barrels on boats,

the one you used to tell stories about,

laughing,

so beautiful

when your head was thrown back

and your hair was brushing

against my thighs,

and you would make up

all these fantastic

tales of the sea,

how far 

this sip

this sip

this sip

had traveled

and how one day

we would travel to all those places too - 

that one.

This whiskey

with the ship on the outside of the bottle

and the way you loved me

drowned at the bottom.

I figure

if I just keep drinking it

and vomiting

at this rate,

I should probably

be emptied

of every last drop of you

by December.

Just in time

for the winter winds

to bluster me

back out to sea.