I am shiva, the god of death.
i could take this opportunity to fly a couple metaphor kites
but we both know they'd just get lost in the clouds.
sometimes i joke about my fascination with alcohol,
usually you mock me for it.
but no matter how i justify it,
it doesn't hurt so much when im drunk.
and you'll never know how much it hurts,
you'll only ever know one side of of this story.
so please don't tell me im not trying
i'm just scared,
i've lost you so many times
i had the golden fucking ticket
and i lost it.
i don't know why i hide within myself
don't force me out just yet.
today, alfred, you get to tell me I told you so.
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