sitting at the bar fighting the tears,
the burn of liquor helps me forget the years,
customer half glances and quick looks,
bar tenders whispering to kitchen cooks,
just came in for one drink,
sitting till im too drunk to think,
slowly numbing limb to limb,
doesnt numb the break within,
look at me now im ******* useless,
years of labour ******* fruitless,
a lifes goal gone,
ambition directed wrong,
breaking up with lifes first love,
harder done than speaking of,
texting friends with no reply,
sitting alone too embarrassed to cry,
something about the bar is so theraputic,
slow suicide is the way to do it,
after consuming each drop of poison,
my soul feels slightly more moistened