I am travelling down the road
the same familiar road as always
and I am right about to call you

talk to you about this and that
listen to your struggles, talk about mine
to calmly traverse the grounds that constitute us
to be in that familiar space, built on pillars of love
of mutual dependencies, of years togeather in a small family

but reality hits me like a free falling piano crashing in to the ground
in my mind, I momentarily try to flee the impact
try to face away from the exposion before the shockwave hits
in a pahtetic hail mary, I try desperately to dash truth

the cold truth that I am all that is left of that loving home,
of those laughs, those dinners, those movie nights
all that love and all that life
its nothing left but me

There is no one to call, no one to snap,
no one to laugh with, no one to report to
there is just void, loneliness and the harsh realisation of death
as I stand on top of my family tree
strainingly trying to reach back in time
into the whispering winds and shadows of the past