When words once smoldering
Have cooled and evaporated
Are you left with warm fuzzies?
Or a nasty draft?
The kind a door opened during a snow storm brings
When your tears fall gently like summer rain
And trace the shapes of your cheeks
Do they taste like sweet memories?
Or salty bitterness?
Collecting in a pot that holds watering leaking from the ceiling
When you lay in your bed at night
And you sleep curled next to them
Is it soft like a bed of roses?
Or as unfamiliar as a camping trip?
Tossing in your sleeping bag with pine needles poking at your side
You want warm fuzzies,
And sweet memories,
And roses, dozens of them
But you know this love is a cold one
So before you are left behind patching leaks with chewing gum
You pack your bags
And shut the door quietly behind you