Cold

Veins frozen, never able to see beneath,
never enough to serve my thirst.

I cry, tears warm, only peering through
your frosty glass.

A statue you stand, poised, alert, marbled,
no sound for even a bird to sing.

Never to feel....

I don't know what love is, but
I care about you, is that enough?

My eyes blur to the tomb before me.
The roads between us, the countless bodies
strewn, neglected.

You will never understand my melody, how I play Missing You, the
journey I chose to stay.

High upon my pedestal, only to be taken off my your twin.
How many faces do you play?

A game of cards you never lose at.
Your passion nips, tastes, but do you
feel the corpse beneath you?

A psychotic smile, blood never visible on your hands.
A skeleton key of secrets, not able to waken the ghosts
beyond.

A pot of gold stirs you into delusion, hiding from
your own mirrors.

Cracks leave you scarred, the pieces lost on jagged
edges, edges which pierce and bleed me.

Puddling life that never releases your identity...