Forgotten how to live

Yesterday he discovered how to live. This morning he'd forgotten. The world is gray once again, and his drab mind longs for the brilliance of the misplaced portrait. Alive one day, then dead the next. His only sympathizers are drug addicts, ne'er do wells, and all who pine for past loves. He struggles to recreate that which left him. The void beckons, and he wearily approaches the prejudiced precipice, stepping on the crumbling edge, glaring defiant at beckoning death, determined to re-salvage lost contentment.