Skyscraper

It's cold. Everything is cold. There's no warmth anymore. Oh how I miss the warmth. I miss the touch. I miss the feeling of feeling.

But I've grown so familiar with peoples backs. I see them all the time. They grace me with a smile but as soon as they turn, I realize it was only a grin holding a dagger within it's teeth.

Right now...I'm feeling a familiar feeling. And a familiar twitch. An itch. A possible stitch.

You say you don't know. You're not sure. You're not happy.

She says she's done. She's through. I'm a shitty person who pushes people to the back.

He said I was worthless. A burden. A mistake more so than a lottery.

And sometimes...you have to kill the tree to kill the roots...