i sit on the balcony, looking out at the world in it's dark state, the leaves, the stones, people... cars...

the taste of ash...

i pull one more from the little box, the carton my only friend, the flame from the lighter my only warmth, the constant...

the taste of ash...

am i normal, am i wrong? will there ever be anything more to me? i pull a drag and exhale slowly, my thoughts my friends, the noise of the world...

the taste of ash...

the life we have is valuable, the drive to exist the meaning of life, and in the end...

the taste of ash...

I'm far from a poet, far from an artist, my mind falls into the void, they say you stare long enough, it stares back, it's past that now, it's turned it's back, lost interest...

the taste of ash...