Frost
creeping along the window
pane
that trails along with spidery crystal
hands
and blooms on the glass the
same
way she captured my fascination
until
I realized that I was the glass and
she
aimed to smother, to obscure, all other
views.

Now look, the horse is dead.
Must we dig up its old bones?
They are all around us
Fragments of the last few months
And I tried to pick them up
One by one
Figuring out how they all connected
Figuring out how they all broke
Piece by piece
And I tried to let them go
Last few crystal fragments of the past
They are all around us
Must we dig up its old bones?
Now look, the horse is dead.

I never asked to be ugly
dunno why it made me so hard to like
My own peers
they killed me
while our adult supervision got high.
I had no friends when I went away
to the place mom told me
I had to go stay,
"It's a happy place," I remember she said,
"Called Camp Crystal Lake."
Sounded nice
enough at the time.
Crystal Lake. A family fave.
Nowadays, when you hear the name
You don't think of a sunshiney place
full of laughter and happy children
You think of misfortune
you think of my face
and if you think of visiting,
You better not stay
For more than a day,
Or the children will play
on your grave.
This is my home
and I'd rather be alone,
With the dead animals
and my mother's bones.

If only I could have you on me,
Like the clothes on my back
Have you closer to my skin,
Enough to find out each inch
Had a name of it’s own
You can be the cold that always have my bones
Shivering
And my teeth chattering
And every inch of my skin
Feeling bothered
But it makes me
Grin wider