Bleeding in the bathroom

It’s a typical Tuesday with you.

Dressed for the occasion,

All black again; wouldn’t expect anything different.

Would not accept any changes to our routine.

Drunk texts and smiles smelling of strawberries,

Watching as I wait for him to tell me his day was decent.

Watching as you struggle to stand.

Is this depression? You think we’re having too much fun,

So that is out of the question.

I argue that everything we do hits because we’ve hit rock bottom.

You point out we could continue falling.