Fireplace

My hands shake as my soul remains warm.
My intentions remain innocent, my love grows like vines on the side of a brick wall.
Cool to the touch, inanimate, lifeless- winter has creeped up on me.
Slowly but surely.
One month ahead in the distance, yet here.
Bone chilling winds break me.

The sun, she hides in the warmth of the clouds.
My sick and twisted discipline shifts into high gears.
A high so flawless that nothing could go wrong,
except the falling into countless deep sleeps of winter.

My body eats away at itself as I allow the winter to eat away at my soul.

Nothing will enter these lips,
only words shall escape them.

There is only one glimpse of hope,
warmth.
She is my all.
My everything.

I look up as my hand touches this chilled brick wall,
curious as to why the cold has become slightly warm.
Smoke gathers at the top.
A fireplace.