I am exhausted.

I am tired of reading tedious condolence cards with the same blank expression, I am tired of everyone's sorry eyes and sympathetic smiles. I am tired of being told to change my unhealthy habits or else i'll drink myself into an early grave, that is not my intention.

I drink hoping I can drink myself into oblivion.

Trust me, oblivion and death are further apart than myself from reality. I don't want to die, but I want to forget. I simply want to escape from this prison of harrowing agony and the alcohol, it numbs the pain of my pitiful existence and my failing organs. Yes, it facilitates the growth of my mortal illness but I keep drinking, longing for insobriety to fill this profound loneliness that kills me more than my incurable malady.

I press a cold glass against my worn out lips and I swallow the bitter sweet substance that burns my throat and corrodes my body. It cascades throughout my veins, a poisonous medicine. My hands shake irrationally whilst small droplets of relief dance down my forehead. My pupils transform into crevasses of darkness, traversing too and fro. It awakens my body for a few moments only to destroy it for eternity.

Burning through another bottle of cheap wine, I fell in love with the silence, I fell in love with the way the earth swung beneath my feet. I love how my mind drifts in and out of consciousness in waves like the tide. I love living in this farcical world I make for myself, it is my veneer from the palpable truth, not that I am dying but that i am nothing.

I stumble in front of my family a drunken deterioration, firing innocent insults to kill any last unhinged attachments, saving them loving someone incapable of feeling anything but their impending death.

I've lost count of the days, for time does not concern me. I have none left. After the doctors informed me of my crippling affliction and gave me an expiration date, my hair hastily began to fall like leaves in autumn, my nails broke in the same way my heart did and I was greeted in the mirror by an elusive deterioration whom, I no longer recognized. So I drink. They say you can’t wash away your emotions with alcohol every time you begin to feel. But, inebriation always eclipses pain.