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.
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