Never A Forever Thing

Just as the night begins I remind myself this happiness, this warm feeling I feel inside, won't last forever, because it can't. There will come a time when I come crashing down, when I'll have to make room for the heartbreak, and when that inevitable time comes, I'll have to be ready, although you can never truly be prepared for the suffocating hold. 

Each day I feel closer to the day before, closer to the white sun, but I can never get there. I always miss the train. I'm always running late, the last voice at the party. A lifetime away from the person I want to be. I can't go on living like there's no tomorrow, telling myself I'm fine when my hands aren't big enough for my problems, because tomorrow exists. If only I had the strength, the mental will. If only I could untie myself from my memories and quit my bad habits, then I'd be able to live life without the burden of dying.

When I was a kid with dreams of being loved, feeling more than human, I would hear the radio playing Springsteen, loving James Dean, with my sunglasses on in the heat of summer. I never could have imagined all that has happened, all the fires in my rebellious soul, all the days without money when I had more to give. When I was a teen in the country scene, blinded by jewels, blinded by seas, I found diamonds in the basement of our apartment, in boxes where we put the photographs of old memories, where there was a compass of the universe. Football was always on the television, and my lips were always around the bottle. I would rise early by habit to see the day transcend, now I lay awake at night almost scared of my thoughts, wishing I was someone else, in my black T-shirt, in sheets of passion and anger. I am white faced with regret, in wine dark skies. It all comes back to me.