The Image of Him

The Mother Sun no longer embraced me No more adrenaline rush that motivates me to get up Breakfast seems bland, faded colors of rotten apple Unfurled window curtains is the angle that I see Unheard thoughts of forks lying in the kitchen table Deafening silence devours me, I am alone with this empty cup Nostrils reminded me of reek of unlit cigarettes Counting those days to reminisce about your existence Comical drama is no longer my daily routine Friction of emotions ignited thy mere silhouettes Longing for your gentle touch before when I was your queen Hear me universe, burn the wick of the candle to end this existence Silhouettes at the wall is the angle of what I see Longing for your gentle touch as you held me at your bicep Unseen towering shadows into my doorstep Series of dread and pain that hinders me to get up Void of darkness devours me entirely, I lost at the battlefield so I ended up not fighting I hope you're well in that delicate paradise Only the image of you, picturing this unbrewed coffee