The Comfort of Promise

What can be in this world of infinite sadness?
What can become from being trapped all alone?
This day, a day, another day of unrest
This place, a place, a place I don’t want to be

Every hour, our hour; each minute was a gift
Eyes gazed upon hundreds, but a desire only for you
Putting all I knew into all that felt right
A smile so real I wondered if who I saw was me
An opportunity surreal, of course it slipped away
A life so special, no wonder these memories cause me to shake

Missing the smell of fresh grass after the first cut of the season
Missing the roll of thunder of a late April storm
Missing the feeling of hope
Missing the comfort of promise

A heart full of emptiness each morning I wake
Painful reminders greet me at the start of each day
A handwritten note, rediscovered, brings deep breaths of disturbing discomfort 
A familiar song on the radio which I can never allow myself to let play
That quaint little corner diner that I must pass to get home each evening
So much that started with you ended with you too 
Tears fail to fall, long looks of desolation are all that I offer
Emotionless I am as the dead of my face
Can’t fight to bring to life what I know isn’t there
Here in the middle, in a state of flux, I can’t get away

Missing the soft patter of a summer rain outside my bedroom window
Missing the tranquility of a late August sunset
Missing the feeling of hope
Missing the comfort of promise

Somber moods, unsettling resignations, shadows of everything that was
Laying in the waste of all that went wrong
Striving for nothing, my time far removed
Caught in this same exact routine; unremarkable me
Where to turn? What to do?
What went wrong? Why me?
False reasonings breed daily anxieties  
Accelerating through my mind questions that burn into obsessions
Until all of my sanities leave me stranded
Driving these thoughts is such a simple inability to move on

Missing the changing colors of leaves on an autumn afternoon
Missing the gusts of a late October wind
Missing the feeling of hope
Missing the comfort of promise

A crumpled ticket stub of a favorite concert once attended
An old t-shirt of yours, tossed to the back of my disheveled closet
An image of you right beside me, the back of your hand lightly stroking my chest
An inside joke that invites itself in 
Done all that I know and still here I remain, lost, alone
Shooting holes into these scrapbooks, I can’t avert my eyes
Though it’s not what I want, you are always in my thoughts 
Though it’s not what I want, I may never escape this pain
I just don’t have the resources that will help free my mind

Missing the cozy winter evenings in front of the fireplace, flames roaring high
Missing the sight of December’s first snow sticking to the frozen grass
Missing the feeling of hope
Missing the comfort of promise

Today is just what it is, it brings nothing more
Just distance between yesterday and tomorrow
Caught between too many unrecognizable walls in this never-ending maze
Years piled upon years until all that’s left is one tasteless blend