I sit in the winter air
On the worn metal park bench
Where we watched the wind blow the last leaves across the grass
But there's no life now nestled amongst the pack of lonely trees
Like hunger driven carnivores they huddle
A dying breed
I sit in the winter air
A long sleeve shirt and my black athletic shorts
You always hated how I dressed.
I could be another runner, but I sit and feel my legs and back slowly go numb where the metal hugs my skin
The bench is always cold,
Few rays of sun break through the tree limbs
I sit in the winter air
Could I move, stand up, walk?
But I came to be cold, to shiver and breathe deep the poison that stings my lungs
I came to forget warmth and soft smiles
The heat of another so close that it is as if we are one body
Until then, wrap me in the arms of the frozen
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 11:22 AM UTC
I sit in the winter air
On the worn metal park bench
Where we watched the wind blow the last leaves across the grass
But there's no life now nestled amongst the pack of lonely trees
Like hunger driven carnivores they huddle
A dying breed
I sit in the winter air
A long sleeve shirt and my black athletic shorts
You always hated how I dressed.
I could be another runner, but I sit and feel my legs and back slowly go numb where the metal hugs my skin
The bench is always cold,
Few rays of sun break through the tree limbs
I sit in the winter air
Could I move, stand up, walk?
But I came to be cold, to shiver and breathe deep the poison that stings my lungs
I came to forget warmth and soft smiles
The heat of another so close that it is as if we are one body
Until then, wrap me in the arms of the frozen
