The Last Remnants of Hope

the brutal hum

of the night air

an ac unit getting

ready to die

that pool of sweat

you’re sitting in

will quickly become

blood, piss and tears

the last remnants

of hope and a

smoking gun

the promise of tomorrow

never could outrun

the regret of yesterday

of every failure

every rejection

every fucking time

you were patted on

the back and told

you tried your best

reality is when life

slaps you in the face

and tells you your

best was never

good enough

and eventually

we all run out

of angels that

care enough to

even remember

to see if we’re

still around

J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Synchronized Chaos, Disturb the Universe Magazine, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Rye Whiskey Review and Carcinogenic Poetry. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (