Is it surprising that I should walk through the valley where shadow and death and life and light can no longer touch me? Do you think I have any soul left? Any you did not take when ripping the anchors clean? I hope they didn’t slow you down. The pieces I  mean, when tearing away. At least I froze the pain away, on your icy trail. Take me for granted and toss me aside. One more time, just once. Even if I’ll die in the end. Used is better than alone. This time the journey is of no consequence. Only the end. Oblivion. I wish your cup to be full, overflowing with joy, so there’s something to turn to ash in your mouth beside those ******* words you’d say to me. Those ******* words I’ll never forget. Fear comes no longer from self preservation, but the lack thereof. Myself couldn’t keep afloat in a kiddie pool. Drowning in inches, like the insects all over me. What good is existence with no means to live? My means left, preceding your footsteps, echoing away, rattling in the chamber where my faith used to be.