Her voice was like fine wine

The more you drink

The more you get used to it.

The bitter flavor of liquor

Slowly poisoning your soul

Filling you up with memories of salt.

The same salt that makes you yelp

When use it to put on burns

When you mistake it for sugar.

She was the spitting image

Of the bitterness in your heart

She was beautiful.

And that was what hurt the most

The fact you force yourself to feel like

You lost something so precious.

She had a voice of fine wine

And a personality of

The bitter satsuma.