A Whisper of Winter

I've lost count as the days pass.
A year, two, or more it makes no difference,
For it all feels like yesterday.
A dream or a daydream, it seems,
Until the pain and the empty void pour like sand.

What is it I miss? My friend or my lover?
The memories or the torment?
The ache and pain grow bigger as I fear missing you forever.
I live, and the clock ticks on, happy or sad.
It pumps hard in my veins, rushing to my brain,
Crying out for you,
Leaving me alone with the question: why? And for how long?

Is it forever?
Or is there an end to this silent storm?
Will the winds carry your name, or will it fade?
I reach out, but the air slips through my fingers.
The quiet storm ends when it chooses to, leaving me in fleeting peace,
Until it swells once more and shatters.

I have seasons within me
Dry, soaked, stormy, and blooming.
But I fear my winter is becoming endless,
Where everything feels frozen and numb, with tempests raging inside,
Until the last drop of my blood crystallizes into snow.

Ah, then I'll be free
Like a fish gliding through rivers,
Where I can savor my brief memory and life,
Before drifting toward the next.