You always fucked me like you might just break me.
Your fragile paper flower, in desperate need of being plucked.
Alas, it was my heart you chose to snip away at so carelessly.
Tip-toeing carefully around the truth, as if it were the enemy.
A beautifully wicked man, too afraid to remove his unimposing disguise.
Blizzards raging underneath; ice-cold flakes fluttering inside those crystalline eyes.
Your winter chill never ceased to haunt me.
Yet, I fall victim again, and again to your finger's flawless origami.
And while I may have a hundred and forty-three reasons to seek warmer shelter—
I can't help but beg for your devastating storm.