tommrows day

im not irish

but i drink like i am

i order one shot, then wake up in the restroom stall

with the most massive head ache

and shatterd glass that spells my name

my hands are moist

i dont know why

i grab my phone, and see my love has texted me

but, all it says is "goodnight"

as if she knew i wasent ganna be home

i text back "goodmorning beatiful". and turn of my phone

i get up from the wet porslin floor

and look in the mirror, i see a cut

red from infection, im sure its going to become a scar

i corress it softly, but flinch from the pain

i walk to the door that is coverd with graffiti

and open it, but before i close it behind me

i turn off the lights, whisper "see you tommrow"

then shut the door