packing

it is cold here

it is not winter

neither flu nor fever

but my nose runs

my vision blurs

my head spin

i hear a snap

something breaks?

not my bone

not my vein

what is wrong with me?

what is wrong with you?

i turn around

i see visions

of us together

times when we were sweet

times when we shared

my bags are packed

reluctant to go

never want to go

but my heart feels cold here

i am sorry