Remnants of alcohol bottles lying on the floor,
Broken glass giving a cold reminder.
"You did all this to yourself."
The voice was unfamiliar,
Though it was your own.

As you look down at your hands,
You become suddenly aware of the pouring blood.
"I love you, please stop. You're...you're scaring me..."
Who the hell does she think she is?
Oh yeah, the only girl dumb enough to marry you.

What is love anyway, and who the hell needs it?
You don't know love; only anger...only fear.
"Come a single step closer, and you're next."
You don't want to go through with this,
You just want to run.

So that's what you do, as if by instinct.
Run and run an run until you can't run anymore.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
What ARE you doing? That's a damn good question.
You're in an empty field, drunk as hell.

You have nothing left to lose.
If there were pieces of your broken self, they were long jaded and empty.
"I don't know, Eva. There's nothing left for me, go home."
The more you tried to make sense of your given situation,
The dizzier you get, the darker your view gets.

Eva, you're damned beautiful wife.
The only girl who'd ever attempted to relieve your pain.
"I won't give up on you, not now, not ever!"
She should've, it would have relieved your guilt.
She should've, if only she knew that your fading view of the world around you would be your last.