You're Next to Me.

I sit here. Dwelling. Thinking. Listening. Breathing.
The warmth hits my frost bitten toes, my frost bitten face, my frost bitten
Heart?
Hm, well...that's something of a stretch.
"Shut me out"
Her voice says, screams, echoes, chimes,
Somehow it speaks to me.
Something about this girl's high pitched whining says something.
Something meaningful. something full of want. Full of craving.
Full of music. Full of the gusto I wish I could muster.

Reading between the lines is a great thing,
Especially if your a writer.
Like me.
If I told you how I felt straight up, you'd laugh at me.
You'd make fun of me for trying to talk to you.
You'd poke at me with that stick of ignorance your parents gave you.