Living in an Ashtray Wandering Thoughts


Burning away

like unattended cigarettes in an ashtray.

Teetering on the edge of collapse.

Threatening to fall into the abyss

of wasted oblivion,

leaving nothing but a trail of scattered ashes,

soon to be sucked into a vacuum.

Future obscured by the smoky air of forgetfulness.

Present dimmed by simple indifference.

Putrid stench of past decisions made.

Choking on consequences

and coughing up the remains of what once was.

Stained fingers.

Stained souls.

Hearts blackened by anger.

Lungs blackened by years of

living in an ashtray,

huddled side by side with

wasted filters of existence.

All drowning in a sea of bitter ashes.

Suffocating on memories of the touch of sweet lips,

never to be touched again.

Just sitting with those wasted filtered nothings,

dreading (maybe hoping for) the moment of being dumped

like the trash they are,

like the garbage they ever will be.

Thrown into the ever-increasing numbers of lost souls

in the land of no one gives a shit.

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