The speaker is trying to switch themselves off. They crave "nothingness," letting hours and days slip by while they stay perfectly still, and they fill every gap with distractions so the emptiness inside doesn't "explode." The subtitle, "A letter to Mary, my first love," suggests this numbness comes from losing her, though the poem never says exactly what happened.
The short, clipped lines (drink, smoke, laugh, fall, get up, fight, apologise, beg) read like a cycle the speaker keeps repeating, swinging between wild escape and desperate pleading. The mood is bleak, restless and worn out. By the end the tone turns bitterly honest. "You gave me sight and now i am blind" suggests that love opened the speaker's eyes and its loss left them lost. Calling themselves a "fool" and Mary their "master" shows how much power she still holds over them.