muffinsinmylapx

I still remember the cold that cut my skin, a scarlet slash against my perishable paleness, I sat among the corpses of dead things, a statue rotting into nothingness, I existed without a voice, my lips too numb to even blow a kiss, it was cold enough to freeze Hell where I sat, blue in my own Solitude, I could not move from my frozen prison-but my tears still fell, freed from some left over emotion melting away my resolution, they fell silent and slow until they turned to snow with my Hope and Love, leaving my face frozen once more, still I stayed and played my frozen part, but as I tuned the strings of my song my fingers were b