I’m pushing forward, sometimes, I miss you. But you were gone by the time summer left. I wait patiently for my loved ones. The cold finds a new home in this flesh-wrapped tomb. My successes are for me alone and the ghosts of my life before. Spectator to specter. I’m haunted by laughter I’ll never hear again. The bus rides to the lake are always alone, while you embrace true love and build a new home. I sigh hopelessness. Sobriety is funny especially when your dying and horny.