Most nights i feel like a ghost, stumbling somewhere between living and drunk, haunting my past selves and kicking the graves of who i used to be, words i used to mean, loves that once found and ruined me. All the quiet and hidden spaces fill with tar and i sink into the dark knowing that i chose this, this life and this pain and this death. Cemeteries fill with ghouls wearing my face, eyes once so vibrant and now terribly, irrevocably hollow.
The soul awaits the sun and the sun never rises here.