winter’s chill is in
these bones, ice dripping
through cobalt-blue veins

i’m so cold in here
reduced to this
st-st-stuttering
attempt at half-way
decent poetry
ashy whispers curling,
twisting up with breath
through thin, chapped, red
lips to the stars

i know
you can’t hear me
through this wall you make
with your shoulder

i know
you won’t understand

once
your touch was spring-
sunshine turning blue to green
melting away the frost
in my eyes

but now
you remind me that i live
here on grey street

and your silence

it breaks my heart

a/n: the song that inspired a little bit of this—‘grey street’—is completely the dave matthew’s band’s.