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.



One Response to “cold.”

  1. Dory Says:

    Wonderful poem.

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