The tick of the clock stops dead without you. What do I do when the headlines of my life speak only of bad news.  My body aches and I can’t even walk in my own shoes. There is no decision left to choose. The cards have been dealt not stacked in my favor, so I am bound to lose. I am a pilot flying through grey skies who can’t see the light of day.  My senses lost  so I can’t see beyond you and I. I am a moth to your flame who’s wings have been clipped never to fly again. My sunshine now sits in the shade. My good fortune has faded into the black, like a needle in a haystack I fear I will never find you again.

I lost you along the path of the straight and narrow. Now I sit empty down to the bone marrow. With you gone I am a stomach virus full blown. You were the backbone that held us up. My phone sits naked and subconscious, feeling my eyes as they stare upon it. Hoping to hear your tone through the microphone. I am alone, a walking headstone living his life like a blind man who can’t find his way in life without you. Poor in spirit, with deaf ears I turned my back on happiness. Now I can’t hear your sweet voice serenading me in the silence of the night that has now become my punishment. My own personal prison, where my voice echoes off the walls deep like a baritone. I am a rolling stone because my house isn’t a home without you in it.