1150 hrs March 30th 2005

The matchstick ignites

bursting into flames.

I inhaled another ciggy

exhaled smoke of toxic waste

that I deposit more

into my lungs.

Been coughing

my lungs out.

As I sink

into the abyss

of self pity

and self destruct.

I'm spent,

totally spent.

Depleted of all

physical, emotional, spiritual

energy.

To be fair,

she was no fair weather

girlfriend.

She weathered the storms too.

But the reality,

is we're two passing ships

in the night.

At daybreak,

we're out of sight.

We're headed in

different directions.

We merely tried

to make some meaning

out of a meaningless

passing,

just the the many

that passed along

before.

At some point,

it is useless

to hold on.

Because

there is nothing left

to hold on to.

Just some joy

and laughter,

useless memories.

I cry

as any one would,

as I watch us

inexorably die,

frantic as we may

to revive the dead.

The time has come

for us to bury

the dead.

It is useless darling

useless.

As we mark the tomb

of our relationship,

the epitaph says,

we tried, but....