there was blood in my beard
near my lips right corner.
another blurry bland morning
spent in bed,
bleeding into the afternoon...
no boss I just forgot.
yes sir I'll do better.
all the usual.
this is proof of what?
what's the easy answer?
why can't I find that magic bullet?
stagger home uphill
alone
drunk and full of banter-
the messy sheets an uncomfortable coffin.
why the fuck must there be morning?
the night is much fucking better.
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