I miss the stupor of a drunken night
spent singing softly in a room of dim light,
not even sad, so why did I cry?
There was a plea for help behind every lie
that I gave them to keep it all under wraps
to throw off the stench of all the mishaps,
like when I blew chunks all over the couch
or nearly got caught with a mini bottle in my mouth.
My hands shake while I'm awake all night
comfortably crying in a room of dim light.