I have made promises to the day,
and have broken them nearly every chance I've been given,
and scraped by by some fortune I seem to have been given also, but not respected.
I have known that my life comes with responsibility,
and the waste I have made of it so far.
Regret, the inaudible word of definition, may have been closer to the tip of my tongue than I wanted to admit.
Going against all I've known, I am complacent to my actions speaking the loudest.
Yet I curse myself when actions are failed,
and forget them within the hour.
Continue to forget,
continue to fail,
continue to forget my failures,
until they show up again.
And even then I hold no specifics, only the weight of regrets which I've secretely passed to my subconscious, so that when the next day comes I wake with heaviness which I can never quite place.
In the lack of my own clarity I have misplaced near everything.
I constantly promise to take responsibility the next day, when every day previous I understand that the next day will be too late.
Self-berating has shown no promise
the same way positivity has fallen short.
A clear mind may hold the answer,
though my mind usually feels empty,
and the two are sometimes hard to differentiate.
But I suppose it's really not all that empty;
Ay, there's a fog.