I can't remember the last time I looked into the mirror,
And didn't see the vague shell that I am today.
Because today, my body bleeds passion for the uninspired
My skin, shrink wrapped over hollow tree branches
That extend to the beachy shallows of my body
That not even I can see anymore
I am a withering tree who's leaves cannot grow
And roots are dry
I am the stiff wind in January that will burn your cheeks,
I am the only thing that keeps two people apart.
Yet, I will shout from corridors and mountain peaks alike,
I am fine