found the end of the line, the last great sip of discontent

see i spend so much time sitting in the darkness waiting for some magical fix that makes the outside not seem so daunting, my thoughts not seem so haunting

this river of emotion boiling over with endless miserable death defying indecision

laying in bed for hours, drifting in and out of make believe and fitful restless sleep, of hoping for more and more and making deals with invisible deities and only receiving empty migraine promises of maybe tomorrow

tomorrow never comes it is always so tantalingly out of reach

so i put happiness off until tomorrow, the dangling carrot of servitude and sullen sequence of events i don’t have to deal with

well, not until tomorrow at least

i will be better tomorrow, go out tomorrow, find joy tomorrow, move to the couch tomorrow

so when i instead lay here another gloomy day i know i have that to look forward to

when i shake and sob and wonder what i did wrong to always deserve this endless stream of internal anguish i have tomorrow to look forward to

as i think of her, of almost, of sweet lips and long kisses, maybe tomorrow it will find me again

maybe tomorrow

today is for bitter thoughts and rotten dissonance, today is for banging my head against the wall and screaming why over and over until my voice breaks and my limbs shake

today is for curling up in a ball and counting the reasons not to die

tomorrow is for living, today is for questioning everything

today is for everyone to say everything will be okay

tomorrow is for cuddles

today is for anger, rage and that flaccid feeling of inadequacy

tomorrow is for meaning

today is for meaning nothing

but it is always today and never tomorrow and yesterday is when it wasn’t so bad

today is hell, tomorrow is heaven and yesterday is the things i will never have again

it is cold in this place, but i cannot tell if i am freezing or if the cold is from where i used to care, and i don’t care if it is or not but i need something to bitch about to be make tomorrow is that much better

i will go out tomorrow and explore but today i will stay in bed and when i wake up i hope i can tell if the difference between today and tomorrow

yesterday i had hope, but hope was a shovel i used to dig the hole i woke up in today

hope was the rope i used to pull the worry of today, hope was the pills, the thrills, the jagged shards of glass i never quite threw away

today is the trash fire of yesterday’s dreams and tomorrow the phoenix rises

today is the absolute bottom, tomorrow is the long climb up

tomorrow, as long as i wake up tomorrow and it isn’t today i will be fine, the jigsaw pieces will be put back together tomorrow as long as it isn’t today

as long as it isn’t today