The truth is very cold, freezing almost.
Especially once i mistook it
all in an amber hue,
a warm disposition.

Now I see it has always been iced.
dressed in a sad shine
deep cracks, and clouded sensitivities.

I blindly thought we were bursting
in a beautiful fire
dancing on the embers of longevity,
burning for eternities.

I thought the ashes could never catch up to us.
But we were never on fire.

Only I, in a hypothermic solitude
dreaming of a faraway, beautiful warmth
twisted passion:
as a means of an escape.