I wish I was too cold to care,
Too cold to love,
Too cold to speak.

I wish that I couldn't care,
Couldn't love,
Couldn't weep.

I wish I could block you from my mind,
My heart,
My soul.


My being is not whole,
Is not right,
Is not warm,
But cold.

But not too cold to love,
Or too cold to speak.
Only to weep.

While I sit, cold and unforgiving,
I know that I still care,
Still wish that I could just stop living.

But that's only another wish,
That comes from my soul.

So here I sit:
Cold,
Unforgiving.

So here I am,
In my existence,
Afraid only to weep.
 
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