clothes are uncomfortable
but so is the cold
whispering against my neck
goosebump constellations
gather in congregations
along the salt skin of your arms
and your mouth opens
but no words are spoken
instead a rotten tongue falls out
and you soak into my skin
like a warm milk bath
and you settle in my bones
like the age of a million years pass
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 5:25 AM UTC
my heart palpitates
and my head hammers
and I can't feel a thing
when my toes
(ice cold and stiff leads)
curl for comfort
but grasp thin air
in the worn flannel sheets
winter is here
and the sun is still there
but it will no doubt hide away
like the coward it is
and make way
for the
ever-sprinkling
rain
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 5:21 AM UTC