It has all come to this. Like I piece of used bubble wrap I search for another pop, another burst of hope hidden amongst emptiness. Useless. Like a carrier pigeon soaring through the dusk sky only to find there is no note, no string tied to my thin ankle. Alone I fall. Familiar smells mix in my mind tying tiny knots amongst my memories of you, tangled and knotted. No matter how hard I try to wash it all away, a little soap still gets in these eyes and a tear slips down my check. I turn the knob and step out cold, wet, and naked. I make a turn to face myself in the mirror. There is only fog.