Why the fuck did I pretend

i can't stop thinking,
and my heart won't stop beating.
it's just one more drink, i say.
a few more pills won't hurt, i say.
abuse makes things better;
it's the most familiar feeling i know.
lets hurt ourselves, allen, one more time
it makes other things hurt,
and stills that persistent, beating heart,
and slows those damn, flowing tears,
and helps dull that paranoid mind.
i can say, the clarity and truth
with my mind washed away
of daily cares and daily worries:
why the fuck did i care anyway,
and why the fuck did i pretend,
that you cared.