"I wish I hadn't done it."

The stale, freezing wind dries my lungs
and I feel how hollow my body is
lacking the comfort of your arms.

"The reason I want to act like things are normal,
is because I wish they were."

Your final words nip at my skin
along with the icy breeze
through my cracked window.

"I'm sorry that it had to come to this."

My breaths are shallow and abrupt
this season, and they match how I felt
when we said goodbye
for the final time.

"Live long. Happy."


                                                                                                                                    *CVT