Cold

The air, so cold. The kind of air where it hurts to breathe, unexpectedly. Like it burns every fiber of your body, from the inside out and the outside in. But it's relieving in a sense. Cleansing. Like it melts away all of the bad, all of the twisted maligned filth that encircles you.

It's so cold I want to feel, I want to hunt, I want to love. I can't explain it because I'm not allowed to go, and I haven't been. I feel confined by the limited understanding of society. I want to go in the middle of the night and run. I want to feel it, I want to share it with someone special. Cloudless climes and starry skies... pale moonlight illuminating winding trails upon which no fate is certain.

But they've got fences, they've got guns. They've got curfews, and I can't run
Far enough away to be free.

I want to feel as if I don't have to, but do so by choice. Because to feel the cold is to feel pain, and we feel it in our blood! Because to bleed is to feel the need... the need for the warmth of another in both body and mind.

Because to know cold is to know warmth, and to know warmth is to know love.