Made up of only big white walls

When winter comes,
You’ll come back, haunting me,
With your dreadful memories,
I’ll put on the long sleeves,
Because this is for only them to see,
White lines traced upon bloodlines,
When we’re left alone, we’re closer than veins,
The ghost of your touch on my skin,
Sends me into a foreign place,
I’m trying to forget, but you keep on coming back,
Creeping down my arms, making me tongue-tied,
Stuttering something to cold conformed walls,
They leave me wondering,
If these walls could talk, would they?