It Ain't Me

A little whiskey, a little nostalgia, and reality begins to blur like an old film. Once upon a time, everything was beautiful: the rooftops, freedom, being seventeen, sleepless nights by choice, not because your heart wouldn't let you sleep. But now, someone didn't come back, someone didn't wait, and in this “It ain't me,” there is no anger. Just a dry residue. As if love were a party that ended long ago, and now someone else is cleaning up. Not romance, but the aftereffect. When it doesn't hurt, it's just clear. And final.