Syringe

Nothing left inside me but silhouettes remain

Mutual abandon takes scissors to the flame

Fanning all the heat left in my chest

Shadows walk beside me on trails built on shame

Forward gliding motions by silent passengers

Cornering myself with inaction

If only for a day this plan was our own plan

A syringe pushed into the evening setting sun

Everything once shared has lost itself to time

Secrets like cremations tossed up into the wind

Mixing among every life once loved

Every story told must come to its own end

The storyteller’s demise, a cyclical nature

Something that we all one day will share

Happier alone