The Last of Days

Half thousand days have gone by since the last time I was laid. Stained in Red, couldn't be anyone else's...still his, the perfume fades on my ever since untouched skin.

A sad record.


Day 500. And it's so far I will count.
The numbers will keep flowing, tho. I'm just not sitting here watching it anymore. Counting the days  going down on a stream of tears.

500 days ago, I was loved...

Now the river ran dry.