I always think what to tell
you to be mine

but

if you wanted
you would be

words can’t change it
deeds can’t make you

what was done was done
and I don’t know
how to recover

or find answers
without you

when I cry in the night
realising how weak
I am

stone and soil
not suited for sowing

rain that ceases
all sparks

what is left in this corpse
is in fact you

my bones
dust of eternity
and you

but how can I ever
explain

when you gave up

how can I ever regain
my in you still beating heart-

have you thrown it
away by chance

as something you’ll
never need again?

or have you put it in
a freezer

as to not feel the pain?