The grey clouds are heavy enough to be my covers and as I pull them over me to hide from it all I feel all consumed.

I hide from;
noise
light
voices
responsibilities
touch
love
and my own thoughts.

Under here the cold is both welcome and defending. I wiggle to get the coldest spots.

Only primal urges will release me from this soft cold coffin;
urine
food
water
sex

John Kipling Lewis

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grey-clouds-2/