I'm in this "home"
with my big black coat on,
but I can't help but shiver.
Oh, how I'd love to decipher
what you wrote late at night,
but I'm afraid I just don't have
the energy.
I could argue, I could spit facts
and hurtful things in your direction,
but what good would that do? When you're
the logical one and I'm only coughing up reasons to 'non-exist'.
----
I keep waiting for you to
slip through my frosted
window and suffocate the
very idea of death out of me.
But you never come, you
never place a soft, warm hand
over my mouth and kill the one thing
that is out to get me...
Well, me. Of course.







