Warm-blood meets the cold air, the harsh winds of reality,
reflecting back the spitting image of a girl.

Touch me with your snow like hands and make me shiver,
make my goosebumps come out and play because they miss the feeling of the-

Sore limbs,
weak muscles,
Need to stretch out,
Like the elastic bands on my wrists tying back my hair from going in my face,
like your words when you speak