Stranger,

How do you make me

feel so rotten,

stranger?

With the wind in your lips

you howl; chasing into

my deepest insecurities.

I wave flurries upon myself.

Though you'll never know

just how cold the taste

of conjured wind curls.

Piercing through the fabric,

chilling my veins,

until the seams tear;

Letting out the frosted air.

How do you make me,

stranger?

How do you make me care?