On Wandering Thoughts

Sometimes I wonder what you are thinking.
Sometimes I wonder what I am thinking.
Sometimes I wonder if you are thinking too much.
Sometimes I wonder if I am thinking too much.
Sometimes I wonder if I am even thinking at all.

But most of the time, I wonder if you are even thinking at all.

On Winter

It was sub-zero degrees. Decked in three layers of clothes and a baby-blue overcoat, She ventured into the city. As She walked down the crowded streets, She dug her hands deep into her coat pocket to keep them from freezing. Couples walked by, arm-in-arm huddling together for warmth and comfort. She wished She had someone to snuggle up against too. Slowly, the sun retired and the moon crept steadily up to its pedestal. The wind bellowed its horn and tears of snow fell onto her chestnut curls. She shivered, her body icy to the touch. Yet, She was numb to the cold, She felt nothing.

She shivered from the realisation that the freezing temperature came from within, her dead and cold heart.

On Noise

An empty vessel makes the most noise. But no one hears the noise that my heart makes.