Promise Tomorrow

It's something I'd foreseen; you've got nothing nice to say. Definitely not the girl I would've sworn you yesterday. There's no positive disposition, no sense of contentment to flaunt. Ubiquitous is a presence that cannot hurt but surely haunts. Looking gaunt and gloomy and it's not just a veneer. Canvassing your face for traces of yesterday to appear. A caustic conversation is all you could return. Maybe all this hatred is something that you learned. Maybe I'm a little scared, seeing you so taut. Or maybe you're just not as beautiful of a person as I thought.

Truculence is spawned when the mind is immured by constant night. I suppose the light in your head just splintered from a shattering blight. Or perhaps a zenith of tumults caused a long-anticipated implosion. Or maybe harsh abrasions just caused a slow corrosion. Maybe you can't return; you can't feign to be callow. Yes, it's so much better now than the days we were so shallow. But I guess that I still am; I'm in no way omniscient. The ignorant days were difficult; we surely will not miss it.

I can only imagine what ensues within your mind. There were no barricades to block me; but now there are mental blinds. The eyes are now fogged stained glass windows giving sight into the soul. I can't reach out and touch the glass, but I can still feel that it's cold. How could an apex of likeability have been reduced to this? It's hard to watch someone rise and fall from what appeared to have been bliss.

I'll only watch from a bird's eye view as if I'm not involved. I'll only speak in riddles of how problems can be solved. It's not my place to judge or interfere in any way. And yet I would defy that law to avoid another today.

You're not at all who you were yesterday, and that I can't allow. What would I need to sacrifice for you to end today right now?

Tomorrow has to be better.