the cold within

I sit by the fire for hours. I stare at the faint image of you sitting on the other side. You're as surreal as a lily. I can still smell you. I can still hear you. I can almost feel you.

I live with people that are foreign to me. They do not remember you. They don't recognize your name. They don't think of you or agonize in your absence the way I do.

I hate them all.

I hate this void. But, I tell myself it'll be fine. You'll return to me anytime now. I know you're inching closer. And when you're back, you'll thaw the ice within me again.