Drawing my heart
singing my soul
writing my words
filling an empty room
with shadows of my mind
trying desperately
to not feel so alone
art and poetry
hold no meaning here
only empty promises
only sighs of passion lost
only ghosts of those never born
a way to find myself
in this abyss of nothing
to see the light
in inpenetrable fog
there should be arms around me
but my shoulders are cold
there should be lips on mine
but instead they’re chapped and stinging
there should be whispers in my ear
instead I hear my own voice crying
begging the dark for someone, something
screaming just to hear the sound
of something in this tomb
and not the deafening silence
I want something
I’ll take anything
just to feel the warmth
but winter is my life
and blank snow is my spirit
