I am breaking alone with the wind, by the fears of tomorrow, and the hollow promises of today. It's uncertain where the road goes, for my shoes are worn out, my scarf lies torn in a bush tussle, the sweater has begun to rip off, the wool pilling by my turtle neck scratches my skin, leaving it red and sore. I have dirt on my face, smeared of dust, pollen and tears, I walk like an agony, I walk through the middle of the road. My ears are numb to the blaring horns, my eyes half shut to colors of disguise, I am half, half of me has withdrawn. Withdrawn from your absence, removed from your presence, I am walking past my name's significance, walking past places called home. I've been hurt, I've been mean, I've lived to see you go, past the realm of forgiveness and cries. You're so much the soil, the rigid water surmise, your soul by my pillow covers, tell me does it ever cry? Does it break your heart to see me fall at every hundredth step, cry you a river and burn in the light of stars, is this gaze from the inferno enough or this the beginning of my invisible demise?