cold.

it’s cold outside. 

it’s the kind of cold that chills you to the bone

that is laced with could haves…

 should haves… 

 

Where you wake up and are surprised there is no frost on your windows

 

Where you walk one block and notice that you can’t feel your fingers

 

Simply because the blood flow to them has stopped

 

In an instant

 

It’s the cold where people freeze on the streets

 

It’s the cold that the moisture of the fog cannot fix

 

Or insulate

 

It’s the cold where you want to burry your head under a blanket in a nice warm living room next to the fire.

 

It’s the cold that haunts people who have lost loved ones

 

It’s the cold of ice in the air

Of things that should have been said

 

Of things you regret

 

Of things you wish you could take back.

 

It’s the cold of wanting to scream

 

But being dragged under the water only to drown

 

It’s’ the cold of distance.

 

Of loss

 

Of humbling acts that backs are turned on.

 

 

Its cold.

   

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One Response to “cold.”

  1. Dory Says:

    Wonderful poem.

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