You leave me wordless, my tongue tied in knots,
Drowning in a casket of my own deadly thoughts,
And what scares me the most is not your rejection,
But your silence, your whim – hollowed down affection.
April’s creeping warmth has left me tender, soft, and frail,
And I need you, desire you, more than a concentrated gale.
I no longer want to pluck the petals, leave love in luck’s hands,
I no longer want to fall victim to silence’s satanic demands.
And perhaps I have a chance to turn this all around,
To make my claim, to try – before the melt down.
They told me to bring a weapon, they told me to cast a spell,
But I knew that force and magic never suited you quite well.
In your absence, the cold is the ruler of my secluded little room,
In your absence, the flowers wither and music warrants doom,
The puzzle pieces will not lock together; the books have no words to share,
I am checkmated in a chess game, deadlocked in our affair.