I rhyme better
when I'm not thinking.
and I think better
with better flow
when I don't stop to think
of what I know.

and it's cold
and it's windy
and I can't think
of why I'm here,
and I wish I could vanish
just disappear

but i can't
I won't
that's not my
game
that's not how
I play.

I am shivering and frozen and missing you
and I wonder what I can do
to keep the winds
from making me colder still
and I wonder if you will
follow me through
what I've lost
and what I've gained?
older still,
I forget the name
of what the whole point
was.

but not that it matters
as long as you are mine.