the inevitable march to the end
another cold
night alone
finishing off
a bottle of
brandy
thinking of
the old flames
that surely have
forgotten about
you
it’s not a fear
of dying alone
it’s the inevitable
march to the end
the tragic nature
of a talent never
fulfilled
the constant
knowing that
no one has
ever taken
the time to
love you
it’s not that
easy to sum
it all up in
a little note
