Awaiting tomorrow

I’ve fucked up so much
I expect it
Every day I wake up
I expect it
At the end of the day if it does not come
I think that’s all that’s it
Tomorrow, I’m done
Tomorrow comes and then it goes
With every breath my anxiety grows
Who hates me, who still loves me and who knows what they know.
With every breath my anxiety grows.

But it only shows to me.

I express it with smiles and with chatter. Too much I think with the latter.
Until I’m alone ,in my home, alone.
And I shout out to myself, WHATS THE MATTER?
Every time my phone rings, every time that shit pings, I always think, what’s the matter?
Alone with my thoughts is awfully frought, because my brain tells my soul, I don’t matter.
So here I sit drinking, thinking what everyone is thinking,
He’s drunk again
Fucked up
And not thinking.