remorse isn’t a part of my life anymore,
any atrocity that i commit doesn’t shake me to my core anymore,
love me or hate me,
it’s all the same

•••

maybe that’s why im so flawed,
maybe that’s why when i cut people off i don’t feel an ounce of regret,
perhaps it’s just an empty victory,
one tainted with satisfaction and subtle despair,
the decorum of a deranged mind,
where lack of prudence breeds recklessness,
lack of warmth breeds detachment,
and lack of conscience breeds mortal sin

I feel the cool water
at my back, I see
tall, green, summer grass.
The sun shining through
And a splash...splash..splash.

You remember the time at the beach,
I remember the long walk we took,
You remember the coffee we drank,
I remember you wiping off the smudge,
You remember the day we met,
I remember the way you saw me,
You remember the joke I made the other day,
I remember the way you laughed,
You remember the day you hold my hand for the first time,
I remember the warmth it spread,
You remember the the gift I gave you,
I remember the shine in your eyes,
You remember all the moments we spend,
I remember 'us' every time in them.

I came to hate the cold
When I noticed that I couldn't get a hold
Of my freezing hands when they were naked and bold
In an air-conditioned bus, as one of my friends told

And I would always seek out the heat
Of his palms on my fingers when they meet
At least they keep these delicate limbs, so petite
From numbing when the chill kiss them oh so sweet

I also came to like the warmness
Of people when they hug me in genuine love and kindness
And I would keep seeking that kind of fondness
As frost surrounds me with little to no softness

Oh, how I remember the warmth of cuddling
During wet and shivery downpour in the evening
Hugging and fondling under the thick, weighted bedding
How comfortable, unlike sleep to the freezing

But then, maybe the coldness I feel
From my hand to my feet's heel
Is a reflection of the atrociousness I conceal
Just to go with this ludicrous ordeal

My soul is just too bitter, just like how I hate
The unfortunate temperature of my fate
Yet fervor is the wish of this vicious slate
Before the chessboard declares its losing checkmate

Unfortunately, things must come to an end
There's no point to try to make this encounter bend
Because it will all just be like play-pretend
Of not acknowledging the conclusion of this descend

I came to hate the cold
And when judgment day comes, with my sins uncontrolled
I'd rather burn in the pits of hell in tenfold
Than to freeze in Dante's 9th circle's stranglehold.