yesterday i got blood on my jeans from opening the scrape on my knee i got three days ago, slipping in the shower, drunk as hell before noon. my dad told me to leave the rest of his beer after i took five in twenty four hours. i wonder if he realizes how bad i am. i have to have at least one drink before i see anyone, just to loosen up. i drink throughout the day, not caring what time i start. my boy expressed concern about all my empty beer cans. i decided six hours ago i would take a break from drinking but my friend gave me a jelly jar of vodka and i keep telling her i’ll stop, as i pour another. “i’m going to not drink for two weeks,” i say as my speech begins to slur. how many will be my ‘last drink?’ will i make it two weeks? will i care? does it fucking matter? there will always be new blood on my jeans.