A bottle of wine bring feels

i don't know how long i can keep this pace up,
The space i grace has me feeling complacent,
like i can make it,
but the destination is some fake shit,
so I Gotta move on..

to where to what?
and what the fuck do i do with all this stuff?
Stuff it in the trunk?
with my luck i'll leave just after lunch,

drop the clutch and make my way,
I lost touch with the mistakes i make,
through the motions during the day,
but at night I lay awake,

Debate my fate..
I hate to say,
Today I wasn't brave,
I was a slave and earned my wage,
tomorrow I'll be brave and disobey...