Really, really bad poetry for my really, really bad day

Lot's wife became salt
For looking back
I'm ashes, just in my own shape
Nowhere but where I am
Stuck, and
The wind is pulling me
I tear in half into
Two pieces, not equal, but
I don't know which
Is what or not, and I
Know it's important, though
I watch indifferently as
Half of me crumbles and
Blows away like
Burned paper, not
One half or the
Other, no, that would
Be too easy, instead
Half, not equal, of
Each is wiped away; I
Don't know what's left

I've been having a really, really bad day today, and I realized that I could put some of my (really, really bad) attempts to cope up here. If people don't like this, I can sit behind my screen and agree or laugh, and it can't hurt me. If they like it, well, then maybe it's not as bad.

Yob yozha, that sounds so Emo. I'm still going to post it, try a little of whatever the hell this is, anyway.