Thermostat War

The chill of autumn bites through thin walls,

arguments rise like the heat on a dial,

each degree a brick, stacking up the walls,

frustration hangs heavy, drifting in style.

You say it’s fine, just save, save, save,

while I’m tucked in blankets, counting the cost,

the air like a dagger, sharp, and so grave,

so we retreat to corners, but who really lost?

I turn it up once, watch your eyes narrow,

like the slant of shadows, creeping and slow,

a battle of wills, as fierce as a sparrow,

its chirps echo softly, yet tension will grow.

The thermostat fights, and we pull, we tug,

both fighting for warmth, for a flicker of light,

each click is a whisper, a soft-breathed shrug,

two souls in a war that’s lost in the night.