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.