Literature
The Mist
The smell of mist in the air,
The colour of your cheeks
when it's too cold to bear,
I wrap myself in these moments
and hope they'll never let me go,
I told you I'd be better,
but I've lost more than you know,
I made too many promises,
and they're all lost in this mist
that's made up of my lies,
my mistakes and my goodbyes,
as I break one last vow
and disappear without a word,
I ask you to stay strong,
and never join me in this world.