It’s the cold roads that lead you the farthest, your starving for warmth and all you can find are lighted windows, and locked doors.
You lean so easily, in the night. But you make it, cold bites, but you’re to far gone to notice. All you see are shadows played on empty streets. You wait, all night, for one second on the edge, where you decide; to smile, or push it all aside.
You scream for blue skies, but all you get is a speckled horizon, and dark sheets. You feel them rough and sharp against your pale skin. So tightly pulled over your perfection. It burns, but you shove the needle harder. Bleeding, sophistication of our modern day hero. You just one more addiction.
Your complications, so simply put, are nothing more then frustrated pulses, and irregular hear beats. It beads down your back, and escapes into your eyes. From there it only gets worse.
But you look up, you catch an eye, or two. I wonder if you see me the way I do. You pull the fire close to your lips, and its nothing more then a paper kiss. But I feel it bruise somewhere. So deep, it leaves an impression. Of your eyes staring at me.
Smoke escapes, and I feel the scream, tumble, roaring deep. An all the while, you manage a smile. I wish I could fall for you. If only I could make the leap.
It curls,  flutters past, beneath the lamp, its a butterfly in my past.
I want to feel, the warm breath on the back of my neck, to breath you in, feel you curl, I can see your white edges. Glowing dimly in these dark hours. Something needs to be expressed.
Only if there were a heaven, would we meet, in my days, like these.
But chances are less, but I mourn for that caress, if only in our dreams, if only in the shattered, broken windows, and forced doors, we might meet again, on our dark cold streets.