it's gonna be a rush.
when all the air that's ever been inside these lungs gets knocked loose.
like that rush of hot thick blood that races to your face when you find out, all along, that they way you loved him, was the way he's loved her.
yeah, that old familiar rush.
adrenaline. taking shape in the form of a lover, who forgets your name.
out of time, out of shape, and out of context.
he will never know that my heart beats 10 times faster when he's near.
he will never know that my smile feels like it's attached with saliva.
he will never know just why i do the things i do.
i won't ever be sorry for them.
i'm waiting for the winter ache.
when i realize.
i am no one.
no one's snow bunny.
and no one will keep my hands warm.
no one will make me soup.
no one will remember me...
once the rush of winter's come and gone.