I forgot what this felt like.

I forgot how it felt to have teeth scrape bone, to hear that squeak and flinch as another part of my is carved away. My heart aches from the unyielding pressure.

I’m being chewed to pieces. The void is gnawing at me. I reach out for warm touch to soothe the ice cold places ripped and torn by glacial jaws and you’re not here.

You’re not here.

I hate this. I hate you. I hate that life requires these dull grey moments of emptiness that feel desaturated and lifeless. I want to live, I don’t want this shriveled flaccid husk futilely nudging me in the face. I want to wrap myself in you and chain us together. I want to remember what warmth feels like but I can’t. I can’t feel anything. All I feel is icy numbness.

I can’t feel you. I can’t feel you at all and the only thing pushing me through that bitter winter is knowing that down the velvet cord that binds our souls, you’re freezing too, and if I am patient there will be a dawn that shines warm buttery gilded light onto our skin and frees us from our winter cages.

Tomorrow when your skin presses against mine and heat transfers to my flesh and my dead heart begins to beat once more, I’ll begin to forget again. But right now, I can’t feel you and I hate you for it. I wrap myself in my cold comfort and know that my faux rage means nothing, because you’re not here to see it.

I love you and I miss you. I hate you and I miss you. I can’t wait to see you again.