To be honest
I can feel myself slipping,
Spiraling,
Falling,
Slowly but
Surely

I barely slept at all last night,
I didn’t take my B12 today,
And tomorrow doesn’t look much better
I’m slipping, spiraling, sprawling
and I don’t think anyone notices
Or would really care

I’m not a poet
Nor do I want to be
But my heart is torn,
My mind a disaster
I’ve fallen farther than Alice
And I don’t care
that no one cares

I know I’m falling,
Spiraling,
Slipping
And I’m not trying to stop
In fact
I rather like it

Sweetheart, let's take things slow.
Don't worry about tomorrow.
because tomorrow is a million miles away right now.
You have to understand that I'm a late bloomer,
with a lost mind.
So please be patient with me
because I am still blossoming.
I know you are ready to run
I know you are ready to fly,
but please don't let me fall
because I've never been brave enough to try.

I came here to tell you something
But forgot what it was...

I guess I'll wait for tomorrow
and see if I remember.

Oh I do now,
and Tomorrow brings a new day.

Somewhere in between my scattered bed and fuzzy hair
Around the first lazy hour past midnight, I dreamt again
You were there with your ***** snapped teeth and razing eyes
You wanted to talk or you came back with your spirited voice to fight
Something is different about you now, the cuts on your thighs are deep
Covered with bandages of death
I came to tell you about my new found addiction to smoking
Fidgeted with a half-empty 
glass tightly clasped within your grip.
You were my home, and I was your tormentor
I didn't know the heaven I had, now hell stings with the flashes of you
I couldn't fit in either
I am dying
You turned to leave
He changed from this happy soul to the grimace of a devil
I would know that this  particular night was one where you so desperately needed to feel home.
Yet I could only observe you before returning to pick up the garbages left of you
Tomorrow I will visit not to torment you, rather to be your peace.

If you think about tomorrow, you’re halfway there. Hold on.

"What's the reason
you keep on living?"

"Because there may
be happiness written
for me tomorrow,
and if not tomorrow,
then maybe the day after."

it’s getting cold.
her work begins to pile up on her desk,
paper cascading around her off the table,
sitting ignored as she thumbs through a book,
humming softly.

and she feels ever colder,
because though she knows the sun will touch her face one last time,
she feels the impending sense of everything changing.
her freedom, her sleep, and all those books
-piling up around her in dizzying towers she can’t seem to hold upright.

each poem has become an ode.
no longer does she right those summer love poems,
notes of dreams and pining and romance.
she’s grown lonely,
and grown up.

each ode is to who she was
-the kind girl with the widest eyes and strong opinions,
this new girl with no focus,
drifts and watches the ink run down the page.
she’s so worried, because she doesn’t care.
and doesn’t care about that.

tomorrow will be better,
she says, sighing with tiredness repeating over and over again.
tomorrow.
tomorrow.
tomorrow.

but the pounding in her head won’t go away,
and all the doubts sink in
-you’ve lost your edge.
-you’re not doing enough.
-you’re never going to do enough unless you break.

her heart seems to beat colder,
slow down and she’s not that old.
she’s young, and she feels herself,
the brightness and ambition disappearing,
and they’re replaced by content and a sense of emptiness.

I was nervous for things that had yet to come
Constantly thinking about them
Shaping my thoughts and my prayers around them
The future had me caged in a timeless loop
Of overthinking and anxiety
Like a dark tunnel leading to the unknown
I had turned off the lights to my today  
And expected that I would see my  tomorrow somewhere in the blackness of yesterday

Reading
       the yesterday,
                       writing
                             the tomorrow.