sunflowers

Heres a toast, to all the good ideas that have turned to ash as soon as the morning light shined upon them. I raise my glass. The room is empty. The room is crowded with ghosts. The room is empty. The room is covered in ashes. I make eye contact with the void and I drink to deceased good ideas. The wine tastes like sea water. I close my eyes when the void stares back. I raise my glass. Here's a toast, to the other void hiding behind my eyelids. The familiar void, the one inside. I salute the sun with the soul on it's knees. I raise my glass. The morning light shines upon me, and I too burn. The room is empty, the room is covered in ashes. A lone glass of wine reflects the sunlight for a brief moment before turning into dust.