It's cold here, the sky is bleak and foreign
The wind howls and cries out to no avail
An answer is either too foreign or does not exist
Shouting into the void, I too, get no answer
Rather, I contemplate actions passed
Yours and mine
Freedom of speech and emotional chaos
All I thought I had figured out has since been taken from me
I can only ponder the why of this, the how
A ramshackle assembly line moving too fast
I find that my position is both stuck and unstuck in time and reality
Though time has since passed, I am unsure of my current whereabouts
Will closure ever come?
Maybe, maybe not
Will I experience your warm embrace once again?
Will our lips ever have the occasion to meet now that the dust has settled?
The answers are the same
This reality is bitter and unfeeling
It cares not for you or I
I simply hope you are weathering the storm better than me
For, we know each other well
It cuts away like a furious blade until little of who I once was is left
One of the lost souls
Driven to the edge