Cold.

Cold,
she used to often accuse me
Of being.
Didn’t she know, she was the only warmth
In my never ending winter?
She says,
My face doesn’t light up
When she exclaims “I love you”
How can it?
When all you knew until now was hatred,
Curses being spewed at you?
So much, that love is just a word now?
How?
Can I allow her
The light in my moonless sky
To love me
And darken her bright aura
In my grayish hue.
So
I wait
For her love to wane.
I act cold.LRM_EXPORT_20170416_020732

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Author: endlessbrooder

Ask. :). Observer. Nature lover. Dogs, yes. Cats, no. Mountains. Photography. Adviser. :)

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