Forget-Me-Not

I want your house to burn.

 Memories of us make my stomach ache and churn.

 Inside on your couch we would lay, until the floorboards and walls diminished into dirt and decay.

To express doubt in such bitter words, is distasteful to most

But it is the only way I can give voice to how you affected me and left me with your ghost. 

In the end you chose something else to subscribe to instead of the one that loved you most.

Or at least, more than your whiskey ever did.