I am a cold creature and cannot speak.
The words solidify before they reach my mouth
And I choke on my own breath.
I am a cold creature made of ice and bone,
Stiffened by harsh winds thrown against me
Yet fragile to a breeze’s grazing touch.
I am a cold creature with numbed feeling and a distant gaze
And cataracts chilled to cool perfection,
Floating on murky brown pools of exhaustion.
I am a cold creature whose heart and eyes once held flame and fire,
yet there is still an ember’s glow.