my self-pity recipe doesn't call for sleep

It calls for getting fucked up,

failing the way I do.

Drunk

Drunk

Drunk

What I need is some luck

to get out of this cluster fuck

of too fast emotions

and undefined devotion

to... someone I love

and never should have told.

Too long have I hid;

too long I've played a fool.

Too far I've gone.

Too stupid to be alone.