I haven't been this cold in a long time.

First it was the warmth of raw skin,

then the warmth of her nonexistent love,

then the warmth of blood pooling up to the surface.

.

I haven't been this cold in a long time.

I used to have fuzzy blankets covered with blood stains,

and sweatshirts that hid scars,

and secrets to keep under multiple layers.

.

I haven't been this cold in a long time.

Cold blades don't cut as deep as

the memories that kept me warm.

If only I kept my stitches open.

.

I haven't been this cold in a long time.

There's no need to hide behind layers when

short sleeves expose frostbite scars instead of

flowing blood that's warmer than I am.