#i'm cold.

The weather's getting colder and my head hurts, pounding quietly against my skull but echoing so loudly in my head.

The night air is cold but my skin is colder, the heat of the moon only makes me frown.

It's not enough. The feeling of its light gapes at me in pity, giving me the contact that is not enough.

The moon's stare is hurtful, painful almost. Gawking and glaring at me as I hug myself, longing for feel, contact, emotion. Not from the moon but from another, with the same beating heart as mine.

That's what I desire, then I may rest. The grass will be my bed, It's prickly yet cozy, it's surface makes me groan.

Comforting yet burdensome. I do not cry, I do not whimper or shout.

The whistle of the trees filling my vacant ears with their words of conduct and wisdom. To not cry, to not beg for another but to wait. "Patiently," they wisp because "all good things come with time".

I am no longer filled with desire or eagerness but with a bit of peace. I will wait for that moment.

For now, I dream about your beating heart against mine, the radiation of life, and the chill of your breath. Know in that moment i will get. You will give me what I want.

What I need to stay alive. The embrace of welcome.

also i despise the new little cirsle around the notes. ugly ugly ugly get rid of it