I sit waiting for “Tomorrow ”
Which I have been promised time and time again
Will surely happen soon…
People tell me it will come
But I figured out a long time ago
liars can’t be trusted
And promises are merely the fragile embrace of hurt.
All I see is the trigger;
Slowly the outline of the gunmetal gray floods the picture.
A once opaque mirage has once again become reality.
Divided in half,
My morals battle my brain as my soul rots away.
The war wages on until the trigger in my head
Coincides with my hand
