but am i really drunk? or
have i just been drinking
water from my alcohol bottles,
pretending to feel the burn as it slides
down my throat?

or have my cigarettes been not
lighted all this while, just me *******
away at tasteless white sticks of tobacco,
staring at my ceiling and wishing i was dead?

i'm so predictable, it's starting
to hurt,

because instead of dreams, i'm counting nightmares.

instead of lovers, i'm counting bones.

instead of life, i'm living hell.