Cold.

[nachtspiegel]

There's something that's come between us, but this time, it isn't on me. Between your eyes and the track marks, a heart lies cold that's creeping dangerously close to losing it's own beat at any given moment. As your body collapses into rhythmical spasms, I can tell that you're falling. I've tried so many times to catch you, but I can't pull you back up until you give me your hand. Your hand. The hand I used to hold so dearly. It now consists of little more than the bones and joints that so easily show through your flesh. Do you see all that your dearest friend has robbed you of? Every time was on you and your friend whispered it's sweet nothings into your ear as you played the role of the innocent bystander. Innocence was never your virtue and the friend that stands between you and the entire world has taken everything from you, but obliging to it's will has become your skill. Diamonds pale in comparison to the value of the sweet intoxication that poisons your veins, and I wonder how much longer it will be before it has claimed not only the warmth of your heart but the life it sustains as well. As days turn into weeks, I can tell that all habits are the same and the elements never change. The sun does little to warm your skin and the cold does little more than tear through your body as easily as your lips turn cold after every fix. Although we never had the grip of a lover's embrace, we are now separated by a million miles while looking each other in the eyes. The day that I realized that your friend will caress you to your grave should you choose not to break your chains is the day that I realized that a part of me preceeded you to that cold slumber. Even if time brings the warmth back to your heart and the glow back to your eyes, I don't know that our fingers will ever interlock the same again.