it's been two years now,
and i am not getting any younger, you know.
still smoking two packs a day,
yes i'm aware i'm my biggest problem.

but i still blame you
and the silence of the phone,
the absence of you calling at 3am,
just to say "*******, go to sleep."

i got scared and i clung to you;
that's all there is to it.
no details to fill in, no ending to determine.
it was over before it even began, how typical, i thought.

still i think your voice could ease the pain
of early morning hangovers that last all day,
and the silent screams i muffle with each inhale.
*******, go to sleep.