Cold

Rigor mortis of my emotional death
has begun its process
as i sit here gripping my chest
as if that will save me.

My heart blackening, body tingling
as every part of me grows cold.
Anger consumes my every thought
and tears begin to flow.

This tile floor feels like
the wet tears streaming my cheeks
freezing everything they touch
with every breath I take.

Time seems to stand still
and everything feels cold.
Life upped the ante
and I'm about to fold.

The cold steel feels smooth in my hand.
My hour glass is empty
and I'm all out of sand.

As the blood flows.....

Warmth.