Another Amber Sunrise

Six forty-five in the morning.
Another mark on the calendar
Another gleam of hope at redemption.
Fuck it.
Why start something you know you won't finish?

I pushed everyone away,
And I want to care, but
I don't know if I can.
Who needs a father,
When you've got whiskey?

Seven twenty-two in the morning.
Dad tried to call last night.
I ignored it, like I usually do.
Is it shame? or is it hate?
It's been hard to tell since Mom died.
What's the point?
She didn't stick it out either.

Eight in the evening,
Where the fuck did the day go?
Oh yeah, I forgot.
Another doom song, another shot.
Another Marlboro, another shot.
Roll one more. Two more shots.

Just another fucker with a slow death wish, I guess.
Or maybe life is prettier with tunnel vision.

Five thirteen in the morning.
Fuck. Another one.