I've forgotten how to breathe without you.
And now that you're not around,
I'm suffocating, or I'm about to;
Fallen, and glued to the ground.
Claustrophobic in my own skin -
It feels wrong, existing outside your space.
Wish I could destroy the vacuum within,
What went on too long, what I should replace.
Even the world-wide plague would fade,
if compared in magnitude,
To the way you cast my soul in shade;
The memories in solitude.
And my lungs feel full of flowers,
Sowed by your unknowing hand,
And my doom above me towers,
I gasp for air - I breathe in sand.
And you, unaware of your powers,
Sleep somewhere miles away,
While I watch rainy, grey showers,
And chase my breath that just won't stay.
Seems some raindrops, small and week,
From the storm have gone astray,
Wandered in, onto my cheek,
That's why it's wet (or so I say).
And I hear talk of Crown* blight,
The fear it drives in people's hearts,
While my own still pulses with your light,
Riddled with Cupid's darts.
And they had lied when they said,
All wounds would be healed by Time:
Some sorrows stay without being fed,
Only good for fuelling rhyme.
So, on half a breath I learn to live,
Just getting by to the next day,
Tired, untethered, but with plenty to give
- for I know I must follow my way.
* (Latin: corona, -ae, f. = crown)