The fog that has come over me has become a mist, a desperate alliance of mortals and men who can no longer witness my pain. Somehow when I have become so lost (why is it, now that i can cry with you, the tears are held back?) it is impossible to find myself again. I have no anchor. I have nothing to hold me to this earth except the fragile beating of a desperate heart, soon to want its last breath, icey in the cold morn, a single cloud of white in the crisp air. It will then continue to breathe on the outside.. but within, what is left? I am alone. We speak to each other, and then go our separate ways.