I can feel you losing interest in me,
and pretty soon you'll be gone
and I’ll be alone again
forced to dwell on all the sweet things
you don’t remember telling me
when you were drunk

-h.w.

Today is the yesterday that you'll regret throwing away tomorrow.

there's something sad about the sky
watching it fall down in colors
and paint itself to sleep
I sit and wait
for something I haven't figured out yet
listening to music that matches the hue
of the now darkened sky

I think that my disease is being okay
and living for momentary gratification
this week
nothing felt complete
you, me and everything that happened
standing in places because I should
looking at chilled and chiseled landscapes
that should transfix
but my eyes felt too hollow
not even being drunk felt like enough
I expect too much
and I feel so small