One cold night

-August 25th, 2008-

Here I am
Still here I am
Waiting and waiting
For something
Something different
Leading me out of here.

Somehow I’m not quite angry
I’m just a little tired.

The icy breeze climbs into my room
piercing every centimetre of my skin
This cruel coldness is freezing up the ink in my pen
making my teeth chatter and my toes bend
My nails turning purple
My handwriting is turning into a scribble
My fingers stiffen trying to play the piano
I can’t seem to do the trills…

No amount of blankets could overcome this chill
Maybe only your warmth could.

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~ by cendana on November 2, 2008.

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