I Feel With You

The size of my canvas can never be big enough for drawing the dry winter reflected in your eyes. The snowstorms never part from your lungs, and the frozen river never stops kissing your blue lips. All dead trees are gathered in your soul, and you long for one green leaf, but you cannot fight the sky. You cannot fight the emptiness when even the edge of happiness is a long gone dream. If I could take it all away, I would. If I could, I'd bleed for you, I'd feel for you; I'd die for you. Your eyes smile, but I know that your heart burns and bleeds. Your eyes are old and wrinkled, but I see the innocent child in them saying "please don't leave me; I'm just a little child who needs help." I'd carry the heavy weight on your back. I'd colour my soul green and hand it to you; I'd give you my body and all that makes me classified as human. If I could, I'd kill your winter and fill your spirit with spring and its colours. But I cannot give you what I don't even have. I cannot remove your wounds and attach them to my skin, but I feel for you, and I feel with you. Not only am I a piece of you, I am made of you. Once you look at me, you should know that there's something different about me. All those people around you cry tears of blood, but I'm different. It is my eyes that cry, but your tears that are falling. My eyes cry your own tears, and my heart feels your own pain. Your spring is my spring; your winter is my winter.