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Spring has gone
Summer has come
My heart is still in winter
The freezing wind made me chill,
and froze the memory
so i can search for

Time stopped in this winter
Everyone repeated same scene every day
Everything become static
like pictures in google image
so  i can search for

My steps are slower
but my heart is kept searching
starting from this freezing winter
will go on and on.
I’ve heard tell
when someone freezes to
death, the end
comes after the dying
mind sends a
false warmth throughout
the body;
life’s final trick,
although I have
to admit, that last
lie is
more merciful than
most truth that
I’ve experienced.

I wonder if
the last
moments are filled
with fond memories of
better times;
sweltering July nights with
the kids,
the sulfuric smell of
fireworks filling
the air?
I wonder if the
man could almost
taste the
warm apple pie or
the grilled hamburger with
mustard dripping on his
silly Hawaiian shirt?
If this is the case
death’s icy kiss
isn’t so cruel.
Amna Khan Apr 23
Your tears strike
the frozen sleet below.
I shuffle to pick them up
because diamonds
are irrefutably too precious
to be wasted away
on such an ungrateful surface.
Grace Haak Dec 2019
i want frostbite
and i want to freeze
i want a cold night
and i want a bitter breeze
i want to shiver
and i want to go numb
i want a frozen river
and i want a purple thumb
i want an unforgiving winter
and i want any feeling to go
i want an icicle splinter
and i want to be buried in snow.
Isaac Nov 2019
walking down cold streets
with colder faces

i am unnerved
as my own cold face begins
to crack and fall apart

i am not surprised
when i shatter and collapse
their cold faces turn colder

i am pleasantly shocked
as their frost freezes me to the ground
and i become the soles of their feet
now that’s what “freeze to death” means
elisabeth Jul 2019
you really make me wonder
ALL of the time
how much you really love me
if it's all just an act
for a gain that I have not yet been able to place
but sometimes
i can imagine
usually though I freeze
a strange thing happens
possibly a defense mechanism
to protect me from a wonderful man
who may break me the way i've been broken before
Mark Parker Apr 2019
Sewn together to be torn apart,
bitten, beaten, ripped to pieces.
Put back together with used parts,
over time her quality decreases.
Drifting like petals in the gentle breeze,
the Doll goes where the wind blows.
She knows hell would have to freeze
in order to get a brand new set of clothes.
A ribbon wrapped to cover a tortured head,
wooden buttons and her bow colored red.
Notes of a blonde dolls life.
Casey Mar 2019
There are times when I can't remember
what I had for breakfast,
or what I said a minute ago,
or what day of the week it is.

But the one thing I can never forget
is the way I just SAT there
and did nothing.

I can never forget the starving look in his eyes,
or the repetitive thoughts of
this isn't right, I don't want this.


"Why didn't you say no?"
I'm still so afraid...

Constant thoughts that everyone's using me, I'm just some gullible toy until they get bored.
Osiria Melody Mar 2019
Reassuring flames of warmth mitigate his loneliness from time to time, but not enough to completely eradicate the monotony of his life
Ah yes, the fireside is where he always retreats to, a receptive listener that never shuts him out for his delusional utterances or fluctuating mood swings

Beyond these imprisoning walls of modern Victorian beauty,
He yearns for the freedom of ingratiating himself as a "normal" individual
What constitutes normal is not within his reach, for he was brought up with the concept that wealth is the ultimate authority

Therefore, he indulges in this hedonistic lifestyle for twenty-five years, a handsome young man who did not have to give a single **** about being self-sufficient
You see, this young man knew that deep within his selfishness, that he was not a man

He is like a boy
A reclusive, insolent, boy

Heh, but can you blame him?
Yes, just like the crackle and tackle of the glaringly-blinding flames,
He snaps, "**** it. It's all or nothing."
He packs his amenities and boards his private jet of luxury into oblivion to accomplish something

What had transpired to shift his stubborn heart?
He grew weary of the same old, same stone, fireside

He is a man
A new reflection of the blurry mirror that he once was

I knew that I had to write this piece when an image of a fireside burned into my mind.
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