A Little Thing Called Death

do you believe in heaven? see you in hell

i stagger up the street
muttering to the moon
swigging from the bottle
drinking promises of "soon"

i find myself at a graveyard
"how fitting," i think
i lie against a mausoleum
and take another drink

when the bottle is empty
and i've forgotten enough
i smash the bottle
and my mind goes rough

i'm not important or clever
and no-one would miss my ass
i reach to my side
and pick up a shard of glass

it runs across my wrist
the blood drips onto my lap
i laugh while i drift
beginning my very long nap