A Long Night Chased by Two Aspirin and a Beer

I'm numb this morning.
Your words sting and it'll be a tough recovery.
I'll keep doing everything you hate
And I'll forget that I care what you think.
If I move blindly forward I could get lost
Or take a turn for the worst.
If that does happen I could blame you,
Even if it's my own fault.
Because how could my words fail?

June twenty-eighth, two thousand and eight.