.

Tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow's always the day,
and yet I still wake up each morning to complete failure and disappointment by my own hand in a matter of minutes.
A small step in the right direction or a complete tragedy, with no in between places for me to be human again.
The punishment is overbearing and I would rather sleep the days away than deal with this mess.  Internal conflict beyond description, every second a mental war where I always lose.
Soon there will be nothing to take away or give myself to validate my lack of self-control and structure.
I just wish I knew where to start... somewhere, anywhere.  I wish it could be today, but I know that this fight is ongoing and never-ending, and when I've occupied myself to the brim I will just fall apart.  I'm already halfway there, the threads undone and the pieces inches apart, the distances between them growing each day.  An old quilt that's really not so old as to be wise and experienced and have lived its due life, but rather was shittily made, over-used, and self-destructive.