Tired beyond compare,
I do not see you shattered eyes,
That look at me with broken love,
As I take another swig.

You hate my addiction,
You hate the fact that I'm dying,
But unlike you,
I have come to terms with my impending demise.

I hear you whimper
And I close my eyes.
Maybe I won't see you break apart,
If I close my eyes,

And maybe you won't see the pain
Within the tears that I refuse to let fall.