untitled due to apathy

Cigarette smoke,
Fills the shaft of light,
Coming from the desktop light,
That's beside my bed.

Cigarette smoke mixes with whiskey breath.
As now everybody's asleep,
I can go back to the bottle.
It always used to help.
The hangover has stopped,
Because I'm never not still drunk.
Don't need to worry about being over the limit,
There's no point in driving anywhere.

I'll just lay here,
Smoking and drinking by night,
Sleeping half the day away,
Watching trashy American sitcoms
That aren't based on real situations,
Nor comical.

But then again, how would you know
Whether I'm drinking, squinting at my phone,
Relying on autocorrect.
Or writing perfectly badly,
Under the guise of alcohol.
Because just carrying on on autopilot,
Is nowhere near as hardcore
As a potential fire hazard,
And possible liver damage.