Cold

Its cold

As cold as a hospital bed

On which lay a shrivelled corpse like man

With his ribs piercing through his skin

His eyes sunk in his face 

As deep set as his emotions

Existing only

For societal norms

Meaning nothing to him anymore.

Its as cold

As his emaciated limbs

And his thin ghostly fingers

Freezing only

For the void of fingers to hold

Leaves him alone.

Its cold

As cold as a november dawn

The sun dimly set

Somewhere in between the horizon

And the dusty green lawn

The rays trying to break through

The mist that lingers still

Almost like they have a story to tell

But not enough will for it

It's cold

As cold as your eyes

You look at me with enough spark

To set everything on fire

And burn the strength in my soul

Down to ashes

As cold as your blank stare

That we catch up with every once in a while

As I long for it to someday warm down

But it never does

So why'd I lie

As cold as your smile

If I would call it that

A half curve lit on the low of your face

On not anything particularly amusing

But one look

At anything that'd catch your eye

And that smirk mostly so

Your way of telling the universe

That you'd rather have them dead

Than have them cross their path

As cold as your body

As you tightly clasp your self with your own arms

Like a shield of flesh and bones that you make for yourself

Not to keep people away

Probably to let then know

That you have an armour

Made of hands as swords.

If I hadnt known you

I'd bet my life

That you'd rather have me dead 

That have to keep up with me alive

Its peculiar because

Its like

You warm yourself down to other people by lighting your soul up but 

You choose to burn me with the same fire .