Cold

Red wine and a worn leather notebook, it’s all I have when I sit here, without you.

Again.

You think I’m fine but I’m not. I’m not fine and I was going to tell you, but that wall, that damned wall between us came up again.

I want to tell you how I love you. How I don’t really know how I’m supposed to live without you if that time comes.

I want to tell you how it hurts me, hurts me to know I’m not the only one. I can tell in the way you touch me, it’s different, it’s

colder. I miss your warm touch and the way our eyes used to meet. They don’t meet anymore, did you know that?

Our hands touch but our mouths stay shut until something meaningless and stupid pops up. I need more than meaning less, cold words from you.

I’m so cold, I wish I could be cold on the outside, too. Gone, maybe. I wish you’d pull me out from inside this grave I’ve built for myself but I think

I might be trapped in this abyss forever.

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