Day Off

Entrenched apathetic
No pain can come to matter
Even Death is just a painting on the wall
 
Liquor?  Empty.
Drugs?  Used
Woman?  Fucked.
Checklist?  Checked.
 
Phone rests in my hand  
They said I should call if I felt suicidal
But I never finish what I start
Both options seem like work
and today is my day off
 
I was done crapping an hour ago
and I just now realized the smell
If I wait long enough, though, more crap will come
It always does
Maybe I should flush
Pull up my pants?
 
The phone rings
It's them again
Their distance reaches into my shirt pocket  
looking for any shreds of what may be left
But I already ate the remnants and crapped them out
More will come, though
It always does
 
Phone's still ringing
Room's still stinking
Press 'Receive'
or 'Talk'
or whatever  
and start to coordinate Ear, Phone, and Canned responses
Something tells me this is just the crap I was expecting
 
But today is my day off
Decide instead  
to coordinate Phone, Flushing, and Pulling up pants
Phone takes a dive and the porcelain prince sucks it down
along with his cigars
Most I've smiled all month
They'll probably be on their way over
 
Pants on
Keys in pocket
Maybe I'll go somewhere to pick up a new habit
Like finishing something I start
Something that can end this misery
Something that could make me happy
 
It's my day off
There's princes everywhere and they all smell the same
But I'm completely out of phones
And the rest is just a painting on the wall