Without you

without you, i am nothing but a bag of fleash stretched over brittle bones, rotting in a house that isnt quite home. without you i am a pointless whisper, faint words flowing into an ear that isnt listening. without you i am nothing, a wilting flower in the winter, left alone in a flower bed full of frosted peddles. riddled with a past of neglect i will try to thrive, but the loneliness in the soil spoils any attempt of living.