another headache night.

I smell of cigarettes
and taste of bad medicine.
Squinting my eyes, tipping my head to the side
I tried to swallow the day down
with a glass of water.

The floor is stable for once
but for once, I want it to fall through.
All that I'm doing is acting
in absolutes.
I pretend nothing matters
when really, everything does.

Fuck it. Today I hit something hard:
I'm really all that bad.

I can sit here, and say numerous things about me
and the world.
But, I will always know
that I know close to nothing.
That I'm one of many,
that I'm close to nothing.
So I will sit, without a cigarette
to sit by my side
a headache in one hand
and a glass in the other.

For such an awful person,
I really want the best.