I have lost who I was, I have let myself go for far too long. I sit almost every day pining over love I pushed away. Drink after drink, shot after shot. Sitting in my own failure I fault no one other than myself. I created what I've become. I have the power to change but still continue to set in on the shelf. I tell myself tomorrow, then the next day. Weeks pass as I look to get that last drop, one more drink, one more night. What was I doing? Sight lost again. Might as well pour another. No worries, I'll deal with it Thursday. Hard day at work, still have Friday. Friday is a weekend, better pour another, I can wait until Sunday. Monday is here, what happened to Sunday? No worries, I still have Tuesday.