cold winds, celebrate.

a wind blows
cold, through the center.
something of me used to be here.
tired and comforted;
lonely
and afraid.

your sentences repeat themselves;
am i stuck?
does this loop end?
has my brain shut down,
slowly sharing the past
as present?

a strong hug holds me,
not quite comforting,
but leaving me longing for
more touch.

perhaps,
maybe,
something will feel good
with you.

 

 

 

 

donation

if you enjoy my work, please consider donating me a few coins to get coffee.

£2.00

 

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