[Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question. . .
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit. ]
... but this isn't you and i.
there was a glimmer once.
and it evaporated into the place where old tears go to feel alone.
someone died, i stopped taking my medication, and i drank until i was not within reason.
there is no middle ground for me in these cases. either i am a complete wreck, or i shrug it off quietly and try to support others.
i spoke with a blackened remnant of a friend this week, and i knew we had died.
it was all over our faces.
i tried to speak with a troubled friend. but i got no reply.
i thought about what i did...
i thought about you.
i thought about giving up.
i miss something that was a fleeting warmth in an otherwise frozen life.
"... and i hope we die at the same damn time
cuz I don't want to grow to be alone"
