First, forget warmth
Forget the homely feeling of fingers tracing backbones,
Like maps leading home.
Cold things don’t carry compasses
They drift.

Learn to find comfort in emptiness,
And freeze memories,
Because cold things don’t empathize
They exist,
Untouched by ache.

Melt all longing,
But never expect the ice to melt too,
Because cold things leave no room for warmth,
With frostbitten hands.

Most importantly,
Love without asking to be loved back,
Because cold things
Cant feel the fire you build around them.