Feeling Myself

harsh west winds meet warm east breezes where the grass is grey and your heart over freezes.. the crossroads of my soul the essence of my being half dead, half shallow breaths somewhere inside i find myself believing. someone holds my hand and tucks my stray hair i can't see who you are but i feel myself there... and in the world of torment whisper sweet my dear crossroads crossing and tell me what it is, i shall not fear. you are an illusion the warmth in my hand vanished tranquil thoughts gone leaving my soul famished xox Ellie J