Dead Warmth

Winter comes, and I am left Inside with the artificial glow Humanity’s ever-present phantom Shivering in it’s own dead warmth. It may be cold outside, it may be Bleak, grey, wasteland weather But I’ve met every girl I ever loved Here in the depth of winter. The sky, overcast, blocking out Sun flares and brightened eyes I find myself missing the heat The headaches, the sweat and blood. We fought our battles, I always came Out writhing, indescribable pleasure Irrevocable guilt, inevitable shame I’ll never be able to look past the scars.