I am like the fox in Le Petite Prince.

Numbed thoughts. Lonely. Just hope - the rest is dead.
Pulsating temples - pumping. Disappointment through the soulbroken body.
Fearing and trembling that the thin ice might break - rooted, no movement - frozen.
Heart is fighting. Head is trailing off. Hours turn into days.
All blood is freezing in domestic warmth. 
There is no answer - breath keeps on pausing and listening - can't hear a word. 
Fingertips are shaking, the lovesick heart is sobbing quietly. 
Tears - salty - red-hot - burning the tender face.
Everything will be okay - won't it?
The courage, obeying the mind, is missing. Everything's other than volitional - 
Always the same roads - giving love to another - a broken heart is left.
There is nothing than a scream in the end.
You don't hear it - keep on walking away.
You don't turn around anymore.
Soft paws - a pride of coyotes - Fight! Cramp. Until you - can't fight no longer.

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