The frostbite crawls across
her skin the feeling
soon will stop her heart
has slowed its beating her pulse
begins to drop perhaps
we are too young
to feel, perhaps we
are too old the warmth, it was
so welcoming until it turned to cold
I slowly sip my sweetened tea while I stare blankly at the glowing computer screen in front of me. An average day. My fingers cascade across the keyboard clicking at each key as they find the desired letter. Silver gleaming, my hands are heavy. I look around at the messy room around me. Art scattered about, light peeking its way through the shutters. My eyes wander back to my mug. Empty. My fingers stop clicking. The soft hum of the air conditioner can now be heard. Calm.
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