Another week

Just another Sunday, the week is done.

I’m one inch further than where I’m from.

One day closer to the day I die.

Another week has flown on by.

On Monday, I drank.

I drank alone, then drank with Sam,

we drank at home, then at a bar,

we drank so much , the world spun round.

I sang a song

then drank some more.

On Tuesday I went to a therapist.

He told me that it doesn’t matter what’s happened in the past,

there’s no use in focusing on that.

The point is to feel better, is what he said. If you feel bad, do what you did when you felt good instead.

But what do you do if you’re doing the things that make you feel good but you still feel bad?

On Wednesday I almost died.

My friend called me up and asked me for a ride.

So I drove to the train, where he was waiting outside.

On our way to the place I twirled my hair in one hand

Absently staring off into the land

If my friend didn’t scream i wouldn’t have swerved,

And if I didn’t his scream would’ve been his last word.

We came inches from the car on the left and the one straight ahead

Inches from being alive to being dead.

But shortly after staring death in the face, the fear we felt, faded away

And my friend and I carried on with our day

On Thursday I sipped on wine in an alley way,

not caring too much about the day

Nor the tasks left undone,

the ones I haven’t even begun.

I sipped on wine and listened to tunes, knowing that Friday would come far too soon.

On Friday I slept.

Saturday came, as I knew it should. One of those days you’d wish never would.

A sad soul lost his life that night. No longer willing to fight he took his own life.

I didn’t know him well, so the loss was not mine to mourn, but I felt it for my brothers

Who lost their friend.

A sad soul that thought he’d only find peace in his end.

And now it’s Sunday. the week is done. I’m one inch further than where I’m from

One day closer to the day I die.

Another week has flown on by.