Every night remains the same,
Unrivaled in my act of shame.
Organized I sort these pills,
Anticipation, I feel chills,
Another living day filled with pain,
It’s almost done with; ascertain
My bottled hate, my captured rage
Crumbled into my life’s book in one lone page.

Not much longer now; Oops can’t forget-
A fifth of vodka for tonight’s regret-
Methodically, I sort these pills,
Awaiting joy, I feel chills,
A shot of whiskey, hundred proof,
Will take me from the world aloof,
Simple.
A wizard in this art, a wizened sage.
Out pours my concoction, onto one lone page.

“When did I start this?” pesters me,
Flashback into times of certainty,
Simplicity.
Unerringly I sort these pills,
Expectingly, I feel chills,
The register rings, the client smiles,
What a simple world, but it proved futile.
Accidentally, irony, simplicity, epiphany,
Unfolds into complexity.
Questions explode, too much to fathom,
An inner heat builds, even I succumb,
But the room grows dim, as does my rage,
Taking my poison, another lone page.