Ill-tongued, frozen in place,

footprints in our sands

fading with the time's pace,

I rubbed on my body

these ashes from

hallucinatory powders

that once coated our hearts,

blessing us with mirth,

though fleeting joy, yet still

worth the risk,

worth dying for.

Our future was a broken

jigsaw puzzle, one without

a clue

or a relevant purpose;

my words were mere repetitions

of the quotes in my other works

but I knew these words

would remind you

of me everytime you read them.

I searched for a tinge of sense

to include in every alphabet

that my lips spat out

but you took it away

as you watched me

go astray.