Refrigerated Romance.
A layer of dread permeates deep into my inner core like permafrost,
so deep that my mind is numb, a flash-frozen wasteland.
Try as I might, I am still a bull in a china shop.
How could I ever whisper when I’ve only ever known to shout??
The people I care about become collateral damage and I think that maybe there’s something poisonous and dark about the concept of love itself,
For it becomes a pit that swallows you whole more often than not.
This false sense of security falls away and you are not the kind sweet person I know,
You won’t even look at me,
In much the same way as *I* cannot look at me,
A wall foisted between us in bed.
Your subconscious forgets that you shouldn’t cuddle in the dark with a monster,
Shouldn’t comfort them or console them,
You wake up as you go to kiss me and I see the moment you decide to turn away instead..
that moment will haunt me,
seeping it’s chilly uncertainty into every bone of the future,
too frigid for comfort,
growing ever more brittle with the passing days.
Yet still,
Icy, shaking fingers tentatively touch molten fire with a sigh, a hiss, a cloud of breath in early January,
desperate to feel warmth inside these glacial veins for even one moment.
My love, if all I ever touch you with again is my words,
please let them be gentler
than my hands are
to myself.