Gray skies, gray slush,
Cold gray day outside.
Wraps me in a gray cocoon of pain
Wishing it would all go away.

Feeling like the eye of a thunderstorm
Chilly to the bone
Waiting to get warm
Counting the seconds between the lightning strikes of pain.

If it were possible to be in the flames, I would be,
Still the chill clings because it comes from within.
Bones ache and muscles scream,
No one hears but me.

Tears seem to find their way down my face
I am not aware I am crying.
The pain and loneliness just squeeze them out of me
Like an overly wrung sponge

If I mention it to you
There is always that silent eye roll and sigh
Before the question, “Can I get you anything?”
Just some of your time, only time.

There is nothing you can do
But a warm, gentle hug would sure feel nice.
But in my gray world, it is asking too much
To feel warm arms around me.

Retreat is sounded in my head
Nowhere to go but back to my bed.
There I won’t be seen as a constant reminder.
Of whom I’ve become; this cold, gray cocoon of pain.