[ WP ] He had done what so few men before him had done . He tried .

Sometimes the silver tongued boy just needs to meet the right girl. 
 
 His lies so true he believed them himself, will falter. 
 
 He will question himself for the first time because it's no longer about the chase: his heroin. 
 
 Instead, his new lady, will be a sobering realization that he's been hiding behind a methadone veil of false self confidence. 
 
 He'll open himself in ways that he does n't know how. He'll say the wrong thing at the right time. 
 
 He'll say he's going to be there... But he wo n't show. Not for lack of trying: but a matter of life circumstance. 
 
 She wo n't believe him when his apologies are streaming down his cheeks. 
 
 He's cried wolf too many times: he may as well be lying. This is the time it could work. But he wo n't. 
 
 He'll stand there lost and confused as she walks off into the night. The warmth of a last kiss goodbye, toxic on his lips. 
 
 She never was going to stay because she never believed him. 
 
 He'll gather all his doubt and uncertainty and cook it into that old false self confidence. 
 
 A familiar poison that makes everything seem ok... For the moment. 
 
 As the whiskey washes the memory of love away with the taste of her lips: He will again become the villain. He lost the real thing: but not for lack of trying...
