the slow art of breathing bitter

Winter Has Set In

It's been a year since our balconies face each other,

yet look away from it.

Though being in the same city,

we no more click pictures of the sunrise each day.

It's much like there'll be no craving, no yearning,

Only one simple word was pasted on our forehead:

Separated.

Who knew last year we would have our last Christmas?

Who knew it would be our last dance together?

It's been a long time since we watched Netflix—

cuddling against one another.

This Christmas is as alone as me,

Half-burnt cake and dull songs

Tangling the fibers more.

This heart grows as time passes,

Like trees moving past the train.

Our wide sky has narrowed a lot,

Between my crimson wounds and your fakeness.

We had our ceiling filled with

Stars of red rose poetry, pastels of joy.

It's blank now, a torn blank sheet—

demons ruling day and night.

The red bricks stare; hollow hours.

Butterflies vanish in the dark.

The rusted door's wide open

To embrace this world,

Except you—

Winter has set in,

Yet again.

————————————
A/N: I know winter hasn't set yet, but voting season already has! :)