Remants of Him

The Mother Sun no longer embraced me

Unfurled window curtains is the angle of what I see

No more adrenaline rush that motivates me to get up

Deafening silence devours me, gulfing alone with this cup

Breakfast seems bland, faded colors of rotten apple

Unheard thoughts of utensils lying at the kitchen table

Comical drama is not part of my daily routine

Longing for your touch before when I was your queen

Nostrils invaded by the reek of unlit cigarettes

Friction of sensations ignited thy silhouettes

Counting the endless days to call out your presence

Hear me universe, block off my windpipe to end this existence

Unseen towering shadows at my doorstep

Wishing for thy warm touch as I held your bicep

No more hopes and desires to seek the great light

I lose at the battlefield so I couldn’t fight

Void of darkness comes to embrace me

Silhouettes at the wall is the angle of what I see

Series of dread and pain that hinders me to get up

Only the remnants of him, staring alone with this empty cup