Suicide Artist

Yesterday is no more,
it's time has ended,
today is only here
for as long as I wake
and tomorrow,
well tomorrow may not come
if I fall
asleep.

You see,
this life is full
of highs and lows,
and half the time
I can barely stand up
to catch my own breath.

Torn between sobriety,
I can see the car lights
flashing
as I beat my hands
against my chest.

Running from blackouts,
fighting with demons
trying to escape my flesh.

What is it that keeps me here,
when I have nothing left
but empty bottles,
and a lit cigarette?