Extinguished

Numb in my prison stripes

Waiting for the next beautiful lie

To take me to another world, another life

And keep me breathing for some amount of time.

*

The embers of my will burn low

They must be stoked to life by something

Some spark, something, someone

Anything to keep the fire from going out.

*

The heat of any passion is what will ignite what is nearly out, nearly spent, nearly done.

It would be easier if I knew what would work.