Another desperate day

Simply put this is pretty much how I'm feeling at the moment

I can hear the rain falling,
another desperate day,
one more drink and then I'll be okay.
The tears will stop pouring,
and the memories will fade.
I will live to see another day,
for I did not cut myself this time.
I cried into the pillow,
hugged my teddy tight,
polished off the bottle
and pretended that I'm okay.
Why isn't it enough?
Why won't it go away?
Buy another bottle,
maybe it will go away.
I'm hiding in my room,
but I cannot escape this pain.

I'll stick to the bottle this time,
and ignore the knife