You know whats funny?
In the middle of the night,
when everyone I love,
and the few I trust,
are far away,
sleeping sound;
I still think of you.

When I'm thinking of all those people,
while I shock myself through another panic attack,
or late night sadness,
I know there is no one to call to,
but still I think of you.

I think of the wishes and regrets,
secret pains,
things I wished I'd lied about so you could've spent the night;
I think of you.
I think of the comfort you offer,
or I should say,
offered.

And all the promised warmth makes the cold seem more chilling,
and I freeze.