holes in the windows
where the wind slips through
my hands grew numb from the cold
and turned blue
I couldn't make a fist to punch out
the light glowing over my head as I sleep
sleeping through winter and feeling sick
waking up at daybreak
where nothing's fixed
I couldn't pick up a pen to write down
a crossed out sense of self sinking in
so I couldn't feel
the frosted pillow on my head
as I lie awake shivering in my bed