haven't_slept_in_years raze i wake to frost on the roof, and on every vehicle dark enough to show it. winter whispers something ugly to the parts of me that are cracked but too stubborn to crumble. even in the absence of the sound that shoves me out of sleep before i'm ready to leave five mornings out of seven, my body remembers what my mind fights to forget. i think i'm beginning to hate trains. or maybe just one specific locomotive louse that lives to rob me of what i need most. i'd hate the mess of skin and skull and oxygen that drives the thing and makes it shriek after dark and before the sun hits, but it's hard to feel anything for someone you can't see when your eyes are closed. all i know is this cold is too cruel to be real. you're as tired as i am. and love is the thinnest of blankets. so cover your eyes with me. 221118 what's it to you? who go blather from