I'll think of you when it snows.

For a few years at least,
Who knows.

Maybe longer.

I want to be soft.

I am hard,
Rough,
Cold.

I am guarded,
Behind a solid brick wall,
Built by a need for independence.

"I only need me"
An unconvincing mantra.

Needs are not wants.

I want
To wake up on a Sunday,
And stay in warm arms until noon,
Wrapped tightly around my bare skin,
Because it's no longer rough.

I want to be soft.

You see what you want to see,

Through eyes clouded with disdain,

Resentment, jealousy, and fear.


Ignorant of your own flaws,

A perfect embodiment of narcissism.

You've taken to projecting fallacies on me,

Painting yourself as the victim of a tragedy you created.


You see what you want to see,

And you don't want to see me.