The Last Year

A poem

If I had saved each bottle
I could have built a castle
In which I’d sit alone
On a shiny glass throne

Why do I reminisce
Of things that are no more?
Am I a masochist?
Why can’t I just ignore?

I am a fucking ghost
Who secretly keeps dreaming
Of what it would be like
To be a human being

And now that you’re not here
I cannot help but wonder
Whether the last year
Will end up as my last, dear

And if I should survive
If I should overcome
I don’t believe in miracles
But I think that would be one

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