i wish my radiator was warmer

it is on the cold nights that the oppressive feeling of loneliness hits the hardest. i cling to my blanket as a last resort, desperately trying to save the last warmth that my body still holds onto. the radiator is not warm enough and the nights are not bright and loud enough to keep away the chill that runs in my bones. i unlock my phone or open up a book, any book, and scroll through wikipedia or flip through the pages, trying to hold back the night. it is on these nights that the world feels far away, unable to creep up on me under the door or through the window. when everyone is sleeping i only have the comfort of the restless internet or the dead authors that have left their faces on the rough pages.

i sleep with them and i sleep through them. i'm too afraid to close my eyes, the blanket won't save me this time and the radiator is too cold to warm me up. so instead i keep myself awake for another hour, scaring the night and cold away, in the company of the long deceased and the recently departed. i would rather read about the love triangles and the swirl of dresses along the jaunty lines of black ink or watch videos of immigrants being deported than to face the reality that i am alone in my room. this is what scares me the most and i take up my pen to distract myself. i just need to get through this night and then the morning will break and i can distract myself longer. stay awake through this hour, this minute and then another one, watch another video, read another article, scroll another page. write until your eyes burn and your mind aches for release and then keep yourself up another while. anything than the cold of the night and the silence of the room. anything at all.