Emptiness in the Wind
An emptiness in the wind calls to me,
in the same way you once did,
with your hollow words,
that swallowed me whole,
in those nights I cannot but
remember,
the cold that I felt,
leaving my soul,
as the warmth entered.
with that hope,
of the past,
that I could not have seen,
and yet I looked upon
your withered memory,
as much fiction as much true,
and seen that I could never remember to be you,
for I am myself,
and always will be.