Missing You

I was always cold.

Not in mind,

but in body;

not in spirit,

but in senses.  

You were warm;

a heater keeping my frostbitten form alive.

And your eager hands wrapped  

fleece blankets around me,

tucked me safely within

layers of cloth comfort,

and I secretly hoped to wear

your sweetly scented

sweatshirt

one day.

But you never offered

and I never asked.

Your over-sized hoodie

never adorned my feminine figure,

never confined me in your fragrance, 

never provided me my coveted warmth,   

and I feel as if I was neglected in a time

when girls proudly wear loved ones’ clothing.

My body shakes and shudders

with every breeze that brushes 

across my sensitive skin

for I’m still cold

and I’m left

missing you.