Soul-less

As I sit 
by the window 
the rain trickles 
down your back
whispering how 
the sun lights up
my face in the dark 

I am in the dark 
stiff and holding up 
my knees so that I can 
ease my breathing 
I am stone.
Cold and immovable 
no will to do much else
other than sit 
by the window looking 
at the life
I could have had.

Where flowers don’t lie
forced on their backs 
where the grass is not silent 
and swishes in the wind 
where the honey from
bees drips freely 
where the trees that grow 
avoid cheating the earth 
of space.

Am I lost?