4 Months

4 months down the line
And no closer to the end
100 stitches for every month
A heart that's still not on the mend
There will never be glee again
Or a smile not wrapped in pain
The sooner I surrender to this
That not much else remains
The phone that never rings
The knock on the door that never comes
Friends lost in your oblivion
You assholes promised so much more
And in that drink I can't afford
In that cigarette I must bum
I thank your absence silently
For the failure that I've become
And all that little glitter
That gave my projection some resemblance of strength
It has turned to dust and ashes
In the blink of 4 months length