Is it cold in here Or is that just me? Is it the ice from my heart Spreading down my limbs? Or it is the chill of your breath As you talk to the room? I am too caught up in your fantasy, I forget how to truly be me.

Old Friends

Old Friends I leapt through cold, night air beneath the shining, white moon. The city below me fell asleep as I graced the roof tops in solitude, two black ears perking up from my hair that flowed behind me on the warm breeze. I stood on the edge of a building, scanning the streets far…