why am I laughing. I shouldn't be laughing

If I go on complaining like this
I'll waste what I have left of this life

look at me, here I am
drunk at eleven p.m.
complaining about blue eyes
loving green, not mine

which is fine
by the way I'm not hurt
I'm just
I don't
well maybe I'm hurt

why complain?
jesus, times will sure
be bright ahead
you won't define me
neither will she

(though it does feel
like a stab in the back