At a certain point                I stop picking up the phone
I can’t do it anymore                 no more pretending, I’m tired.
I sigh myself awake                     blink dry eyes that I wish would tear.
And I wonder what                     could I possibly feel deeply again?
This day could answer for but                   I realize it's a void. Yet
My slack face lifts at the thought               there’s still alcohol to help
I could oblivion myself                  pummel through till tomorrow
What a brutal relief                             this animal body needs rest
This overworked mind is best                   left entirely alone in the dark
Sparked with substance and nothing          more than emptiness itself.