Old Poem (Untitled)

This is an old poem (if you can consider it one) that i wrote last year or was it just a few months back? anyway, it doesn't matter. some of it still reflects my current mood although the person is long dead figuratively. hahaha! i know better than to stick around. refer to my other blog: commitment phobe for details on that topic. please do leave comments. thanks! so, here goes:

I'm broke.
My pride crushed.
Wounded.
I lay here,drunk,
not wanting to feel the pain.
The loss.
Tomorrow,
another day to get drunk,
another day to forget.
This is what love does.
Cruel.

I am fine,physically.
Breathing.
Eating.
Sleeping.
Yet, something's amiss.
That fucking cycle called
LOVELIFE.
Whoever invented that shit
ought to be killed a million times over.

Love is a risk,
love is beautiful,
he will come in due time.
Blah blah.
All trash.
At the end of the day,
in spite of the risk you took--
you are left hanging.
You're left dead.
Not knowing how to
resuscitate yourself from
the grave you just buried
yourself into.

Ironically, when you somehow
figure something out on
how to move on--
a certain someone comes along.
What do you know?
You end up being buried again
in a fresh and newly dug grave.
And so it begins....