I Lay Frozen in a Snowless Winter

Nothing was confusing
when life was a 3-week coma
away from the rush where everyone
goes to get lost from the world in a
sea of neon lights and chrome,
but I am stuck here,
frozen to the bed
in a snowless winter.

A month is all it took
for you to take my everything
in your greedy little hands.
I will never be the same.
I don't seem to mind, though.

If I get laid on Sunday,
the only person I'll see is you
and it scares me that we never
moved past the platonic
cuddling of Yellow Tails,
homemade pizzas,
flashbacks to the 70s
when neither of us lived
nor care to live again.

I can or cannot detach,
will not allow myself to fall
out of these arms
that never held me,
never loved me
because they were afraid
to break apart again.

You're so unstable,
eye of the hurricane
that does not know
if the turmoil waiting
is worth the effort to move
back into again.

So I lay here waiting
For the snow to fall,
the season to fulfill
fantasies as another
man enters my bed
leaving your cologne
covering the trail of
loveless fucking
just to remind me
I am still human.

I have never wanted
the snow to fall more
than when I met you.