Ramblings of Lunatic: Cold

I am always cold
In my house
I have filled every crevice
and crack
And I have piled the clothes
against every opening
but, I am still cold
No fire, heater, stove, or
fire place
Produce enough warmth
to keep away the cold
and I try in futility
to keep warm
with the worldly possessions
when it is I
Who emanates the cold
from the frozen
heart.

things

“…and I’ll tell you all the things I have in my head, millions, myriads.”

Virginia Woolf’s piercing love letter to Vita Sackville-West