Left to my own devices
I try to eat at suitable times
Try to keep up the routine
But idle hands are the devils plaything.

Stay busy, talk to people
Socialise to stave off the sadness
But, these people don't know me
And I'm tired of explaining.

The house is clean enough
Footy on in the background
Just for the noise
Just for the sound.

7 or so beers later
I just walk into the desert
No rhyme or reason
Just to move and do something.

I return home, nothing has changed
Everything remains the same
So I sit, and I stare
At the top of my empty beer.

She'll be home in 3 sleeps
I could be dead by then
Funny, how dependant I am on her existence
I miss my wife, my best friend.

When she's gone, I'm so lost
Wandering around doing nothing
No drive, I just don't feel alive
No identifiable characteristics.

I should probably eat.