Cold Love
Clumsey, rough, unkind woman
On long winter’s nights, under the blankets lies your cold heart. A coiled serpent calculating it’s next move from its frozen state. I am just a pair of hands and legs it needs, trained with the burn of venom. You know how to feed me just enough of what feels like love to keep me from leaving. A carefully calculated amount weighed against the loneliness that waits outside the door, ready to possess my mind like a madness. A terror I cannot face. So your venom withers my soul just a little more.
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