sinister whispers

doors slam shut

there she goes

windows turned to ice

and the wind picks up speed

I’m lost and motionless

the air is profoundly speechless

where is my comfort, my consoler

the right thing to do

is often nothing at all

though I’m left in a predicament

I usually have you to help me through

I know I didn’t trust you, and hurt

is only the tip of iceberg

lodged in our throats

I don’t want to have to start over

but I’d like to start somewhere

I'm interested in hearing what you have to say

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