4.2.12 (to one who i have yet to find (the undiscovered muse))

a voice
that carries
all other sound,
because none
could be as
beautiful.
eyes
deeper than
the universe
itself.
a smile
warm enough
to melt
the sun.
regardless
of what
any other
sees,
all i see
is you.

4.2.12 (basement)

four walls:
two of cement,
two of plywood.
and darkness.
cold
and
lonely.
i remember
nights
neverending
locked away
in that
prison,
and now
i don't miss it
so much.

4.2.12 (back)

misery
is a funny thing.
i do not wish to
eat
or to move.
i consider
returning
to the basement
from whence i came
and i recall
the misery
i experienced there,
and i compare
the two.
i cannot conceive
the horrors
to come
in either case
so i am left
with nothing more
than the stale taste
of alcohol
on my tongue.

4.2.12 (excuses)

this feeling
or lack thereof
makes everything
seem lackluster
or unworthy
of my time,
while i spend
my time
waiting
for something
to happen,
or for a
drink,
to make waiting
be less
miserable
and to make
time
move quicker
than a crawl.

4.2.12 (tattered)

lost
at sea
at least
i was moving
before,
but
then our ships
collided
and now
my sails
are tattered
and you
are sailing away.
again,
i am a
castaway
until i
am found
or i find
the courage
to sew new sails
from the remains.

4.2.12 (tomorrow mournings)

its always
theres always
tomorrow,
but tomorrow
often feels
like today,
and today
doesn't feel
very good.

4.2.12 (to dust)

weathered
withering
feeling
decrepit
and looking
the part.
rotting away,
festering
with
cowardice.
remorse,
regret,
redemption.
i read on a
sign,
in front of
a church,
"your setback
is your setup
for your
come back."
all it's gotten me
is a feeling
of uselessness,
and an inability
to care for
anything
anymore.

4.1.12 (lower class)

tomorrow
always feels
like an eternity,
it has aged us
and then some.
today
and tomorrow
become
decades
in the
eye
of indecent
time.
such is
the way
of life,
and such is
the way
of the
poor man.

4.1.12 (AND)

i know
i am saying it
through
clenched teeth,
but i wish you
the best,
and i hope
you can recover
what you
threw away.

4.1.12 (next day)

so maybe
i feel
like
you were
a phony
all along.
so maybe
i feel
like
i got
ripped off.
it wouldn't be
the first time.
so maybe
i figured
i had struck
a line
of luck.
so maybe
i always knew
there is always
tomorrow.