Cold fingers clasping the doorknob,
Watching the falling flakes outside,
Searching for a sign that you care,
But darkness painted all stars over.
Eyes are blurred but heart is clear,
That your long days are not bitter -
Whose arms warm you tonight,
Whose glass would you drink from?
Without me, it is just another day,
There is no need to endure -
The conversations I'd imagine that
We'd have, over the flickering glow,
Of the candles on the dinner table;
Or mulled drinks by the fireplace.
Without me, it is just another night,
The soirees and glossy black cars,
Would bear scent of others' perfumes;
You would glide your hands over,
Their skin beneath champagne sheets,
White flakes fall like teardrops outside.
The cold pierces my bones like darts,
But this thought of you breaks hearts;
Burying broken shards sharply within,
The very core of my broken soul.
Copyright © 2016 thearcticstar