Somehow, I made it past yesterday.
Yesterday everything was a disaster.
There were no disasters. Everything was
as it always is.
But my mind and my heart said everything is
a disaster.
The world was heavy in my hands. My actions,
small and futile.
Hopes? What are hopes.
Broken pieces of dreams pricking hearts, a
reminder of nothing.
Dreams? What are dreams.
Misguided and empty. Broken promises of a
new tomorrow without disaster.
Yesterday there were no disasters.
Just a mind and a heart struggling against disaster.
Still, I made it past yesterday.