Surreal romance

The rustling leaves fall flat crushed under my feet,
I am tired and broken like the glass shattered from the pane,
The woosing wind seeps into the room through the window,
Recollecting my thought I fall dead in my couch,
The brightening fireplace warms the frozen tears on my face,
A bullet went through my dreams a tommorow I could no longer have,
Sulking alone the knife seems to be my only solace,
The limbs don't move as my soul seems to leave my body as foreign,
The fingers can still feel the softness of emotions,
The laughing traces back to the lighter days,
A shrieking realisation to the present day,
I wake up to the knock at my door.