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.

 

 

 

 

 

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