Took another step lower

As always trying to find that empty comfort

What is he looking at, through those dust covered shades?

The trees grow heavy with color and so does his heart

Autumn is in full swing yet he feels the dead of winter

Cigarette burns cover his furniture like a war torn machine riddled with rounds of ill intent

A certain staleness in the air permeates all mediums

The smell had to have been born in the crucible of loneliness

An ashtray overflowing with memories, scattered recklessly amongst unpaid bills and notices

As he gazes out of the window he cannot help but wonder if all options, if all opportunities have been wastefully spent

He then leaves the familiar window, no longer gazing at the unfamiliar world outside and makes his way to the restroom

He forces himself to look into the mirror of disappointment

He leans in for a closer look, maybe to find a trace of the man he once knew

The wrinkles and scars are only a reminder of his roadmap of sorrow

The valleys and fractures in the skin will only continue to grow

With both hands firmly placed on the sink he hangs his head, only to focus in on the drain.

He contemplates consuming the bottle of narcotics stored behind the mirror, doing the world a favor

As he slouches in the corner, He takes another drink, another step lower.