So what's left to burn?

Nothing. I thought.

Maybe just some more sage
Or the hours of sleep I know I need
The money spent, now repent
My motivation coming and going.

There is no way
To acknowledge what is, isn't, or will never be.

My hair grows long
The Bartender ****** me in the bar
After all the lights were out
Once the door was locked
I woke up to his tattooed sleeves
Holding me
And I wondered with a slight panic:

Does this mean anything?

I'm not sure
Nothing is guaranteed
So I just try to be steadfast
Calm even
There's nothing to prove
No curation of path to make things better
I can just

Give up
Like I always sorta was
And be glad I'm better off
Without you.