a vicious vacuum
of painted memories and
even older scars adorned his mind.
it was a daily battle,
an hourly war,
a second upon second struggle
of the mind against its most dangerous contender,
the heart.
the past never too far behind
the present,
beating the hopeful future
to a pulp with every step forward
and too many backwards.
he was lonely,
trapped in nothing more than images
and words
spewing from his mouth
before reality ever had a chance to keep up.
but reality did come,
it came after the fall
each and every time,
and it left him with too much to repair
and nothing more to to salvage.
except perhaps
tomorrow,
because he knew
there may be a new day.
there will be,
won’t there.
but,
a vicious vacuum
of painted memories and
even older scars adorned his mind.