And hey

I'm sorry, but what can I say. Nothing's seemed to work out for me anyway.

An Old Poem

I am haunted by the ghost of you

Standing loose-limbed and angry

The corner of a mouth turned slightly down

A brow furrowed almost indistinguishably

I can taste exasperation

I can taste disgust

I can feel frustration

"We" has wilted, slowly

No matter where I go

I'll still be there.