Cold Felt Alone

I'm worried that I'll walk around this winter with a cold hand and the cold will spread to the heart and the head.  Those chills you gave me before are different from the chills I have now, alone in the snow.  The chills remind me I can't keep myself warm and you can't keep yourself warm because your heart is cold and dark.

I offered a candle, but you rejected because it was shined to bright and you never had a thing for things that shined. I thought it would help on your journey although I hated the idea of your ventures. You'd go to the wrong places. You'd get lost in the haze.  You'd forget where you belong.
And I'd go searching not knowing where to look and I'd forget you forgot yourself.

I would attach a lamp to your pointer finger so that wherever you venture would be light.  But lamps need electricity and your brain is barely firing off impulses to the rest of your body.  I don't know how, but you've figured out a way to detach common sense from your legs. 

I hired an electrician to figure you out and all he said was, 'I can't do that.'  But you say, 'I can't do that' when you clearly can.  I hope the light reaches you. I hope it embraces you in its arms and squeezing the dark out of your heart.

That maybe one day you'll see what real happiness is.