Haymaker

What was once burning with passion has died down to a little flame hoping to be rekindled. In this way, I feel cold in the sunlight and shiver in it's rays. I'm only left with the tears that run down my face, burning my skin as they fall. And fall they do. Without permission they rush a sparkling river. Knowing how little I mean to you strikes me like a haymaker. Beats me senseless until I cannot even stand up. Brings me to my knees and I'm begging for the final blow.