Dead Again

I never could have thought

that my whole reason for holding on,

would be what finally ends up killing me

in the end.

Dead again.

A spontaneous pain

to shatter every sense that survived in me.

Incinerating any foolish hope, I still secretly carried.

What a mellow irony to the passing of my

existence here.

And on my last written page,

I let what remains of my heart

find a resting place

between the faded lines of this

crumpled paper.

I close my journal one final time.