All self-pity is rooted in people taking themselves too seriously. 

Tom Robbins

The familiar saccharine smell greets my nose
A slight sharp sting as I receive the dose.
An old memory that always floods forth
To change my heading as I veer off course.

 What did you expect from me?
I am a scavenger of hearts. 

Here lies a Flower so sweet and divine
Offering that which I can’t return in kind.
The lone survivor growing in a field
Burnt down to ash by that which is not healed.

I spent a lifespan with no cellmate.
Why can't they just look the other way?

The Questions I never wanted to know
Impart in my mind things that should not grow.
I board this ship to take my final leave
Alone, bereft of all, so I can grieve.

How are things on the west coast?
Today my heart roams the empty beaches.
No, I don't want a taste of victory.
No, I don't want to feel the wind.
I just want to be buried among the waves.