The cold I feel,
Doesn't come from the wind,
A jacket or warm cuddles won't make it heal.
It's an empty cold,
That I feel again and again,
It starts after I become sober, no longer a bottle in my hold.
It really started with you,
Which is weird since I felt emptiness despite you showing me so many emotions, I guess we have to blame the words that were at use.
The violent ones that shook my heart,
Then torn it apart.
The ones that were used when you were bored,
On those days that you had nothing to live for.
On those days that made me regret choosing life,
On those days that gave me so many reasons to not live, that I collapsed on the floor with multiple medicine labels running through my head, but I never ended up dead, even after those days with those lines and that knife,
