Lost, Low

I’m suffocating my love, in delusions and illusions. There’s a northern fog that looms inside the empty vessels, that navigate towards my heart.
I reach out my hand; but the window panes get in the way. I’m dying my love, bit by bit,
My heart breaks, bit by bit.
In fragments I recall vague, sunny days filled with beautiful colors,
Of vibrant blue skies and tropical birds, faraway.
But before my eyes, the bare branches remind me of the leaves which have fallen,
like me,
And while shedding, I’m left dying with pale skin.
Is this what misery is?
To never be able to touch a sweet memory
To never be able to taste a pleasant tune
To want to laugh but to be unable to move, talk, shout
To never be able to capture the essence of you,
In a jar, forever.