ask


she asks me
the question
that i did
not want to
answer

"what can i
possibly
do? how can
i even
try now?"

"you have to
get up there,"
she says, "and
own the stage."
i laugh.

she looks at
me like she's
expecting
some kind of
answer

i look down
and search for
my pack of
cigarettes
again.

my pockets
are empty;
i see the
dish on the
table.

"i've burned all
of my friends;
nothing left,
but a bowl 
of ash."