Aug 2020
Cold hands
Grasping at my arms,
Longing for some heat,
Unwilling to face
An icy incineration
Before jack frost’s
Legion of frozen winds.
My blood has run too cold,
And I have long since forgotten
That these hands are but my own.
Grasping at my arms,
Longing for some heat,
Unwilling to face
An icy incineration
Before jack frost’s
Legion of frozen winds.
My blood has run too cold,
And I have long since forgotten
That these hands are but my own.
My hands get really cold really easily. But I don’t feel my hands ever get cold. I’ve never felt my hands get super duper cold. everyone comments about it, but whenever I put my fingers to my neck, I still feel a gentle heartbeat, which tells me I’m still alive; not a reanimated skeleton! My friends love to call me that because I’m so skinny.
(18/M/Does it matter?)
Please log in to view and add comments on poems
