A circle smells like the dead ashes of an old cigarette at the bottom of a smoke tray

The tray is hollow, laying against my thigh as the smell of burning flesh fills my nostrils 

The shape of the past fits inside a singular photo hiding between the credit cards of my wallet

Her laugh still echoes through my ears, making me taste her tongue 

Toss sadness to the wind and it returns as a fist full of anger jabbing the heart into broken pieces

This swirl of loneliness sounds like the heavy wheezing of a dying dog

At the edge of this silver lining is the sight of a sharp blade shining in the middle of the night

If you looked underneath my skin, you might hear the low churning of a rusty machine barely holding itself together

The starry night above me tastes like iron 

In the dark, I am finally at peace