I was cold then

I haven’t been this cold since the time I died, and you didn’t want to be near me. My eyes were still open, and you said it was creepy, and you wished you’d had someone shut them for you, because you couldn’t bear to look at me like that. I was cold then, but your hands weren’t, and when you shut my eyes, I couldn’t see you anymore, but I could still feel you. I wish I could let you know.

I can still feel you.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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