The Departure

There was water dripping from the ceiling,
and with every passing drop,
I sensed death,
I smelled it,
and as it turns out,
the smell of death was very similar to the smell of mildew

Everything in here was rotting,
everything around us was doing the same,
we got to be toxins for each other,
and everything got green
and then gangrene

and then nothing,
because we all,
in the end,
go back to nothing,

until nothing,
and no one,
recalls the water stains from the time we pruned ourselves for good