its cold

its cold the way that nothing can get you warm, how you stand outfront and breathe in all the smog and smoke and dust, and you still cant see the sun. the way that people just look in mirrors not through them. if we are all just reflections of reflections are you the one, or the copy. am i yours or mine? am i worth this bad coffee taste. these are the days that are niehter ending nor slowing and in a way, i miss you and in another way i hate you.