I crash into your eyes cold as ice
I am deep inside them
I love you, man
Lay me down on the floor
Make me want you more
I can't calm down without
hearing what you want to do with
my hips moving around

The way I see the love in your moves
They way you are whispering
I can't refuse
This is my realest fiction
Like sweet addiction
I never want to be healed

i used to lay on the snowed-in flowerbeds
of nan's backyard. once it snowed enough,
you couldn't tell that a ****** of perrenials
slept peacefully there: all crushed
and crooked beneath
dirt and ice.

some days she'd come and join me
if the ground was soft enough:
we'd stargaze up into the cosmos
of pine trees overhead and listen
for the stillness of winter - the hush
of silence that lingered in the air.

ivy and henbit writhed
gingerly underfoot:
a quiet dogfight
of frozen earth
that begged a
sluggish spring
to come out of
hiding.

I adventured to the woods by one of the middle schools in my small town. Krueger outdoor environmental science center. It was towards the beginning of the end of a normally lengthy winter so there was still plenty of snow to cover most of the ground.
Plenty of birds talking in their chirp language and plenty of rodents footprints from playing in the snow that covered the wooded foundation of earth. I found my way to a frozen little pond where it comes just off the creek to its own little basin of water. I slid on the solid ice and had my fun just like the free little bunnies, squirrels, and whatever land animals resides in these beautiful woods. I could tell they had their fun on the ice play land too because I could see the image of their tracks imprinted in what snow was laying on the face of the ice. There’s a decent sized dam at the start of the trail right next to the creek I was walking, what a relaxing view it was with the sound of the water rushing down it like a waterfall to the continuing side of the miles long creek. I came to a little divot in the trail where a small slanted hill dips down into the creek and it’s chilled water. I sat here on this hill to write this piece while the sun shines down directly on me keeping me warm and comfy while writing. Such a peace defining moment where you get to notice every little detail of the extraordinary nature life we’re given to observe and experience. The way pieces of tree bark, little sticks, leaves, and sediment float atop the creek water going whichever direction the drift carries them. The smell of damp dirt as I rubbed my hands in it to remember what it was like to be a kid and not care to play in the earth. More so just to be human, to be a mammal and bring myself one with the crusted surface and connect with the earth that homes my body and soul. There was a huge doe and buck playfully frolicking across the creek side I was sitting from; I only noticed them at first because they made their loud exhales of breath to communicate they were there. Either that or they were just breathing so heavy from playing and running for so long with each other aha. They must’ve knew I was friendly and wanted to give me a sight to look at and what a euphoric moment it was to enjoy the picture of them playing together. I went to get a closer look at the water and maybe dip my hands in it. I failed to notice how muddy the hill was and almost lost my footing in the sludge as I went down and barely escaped taking a swim in the freezing cold creek! While I was at the bottom of the hill I washed the mud off my hands from catching myself by palming the grime and not letting myself slip down any further. I know the birds got a kick out of watching me struggle not to take a dive into that ice cold water that I was so frantically trying to stay out of! =‘D I had to drop my phone just to stay on land and when I picked it up I noticed there was mud all over the casing of it! I wiped it off on my sweatshirt that I had already gotten mud all over the sleeve of from plunging to my elbows and hands and just kept writing. Or typing, whichever you want to call it on these cellular devices. After I sat there and soaked in the moment that nurtured my indulging senses for a while I simply got up and continued to the end of this trail. Then I back tracked through the trail and took some more time to go ice skating in my normal shoes. I followed my own footprints back onto the trail that I veered off of to find the little frozen over pond and went for a jog back to my warm cozy home and published this piece of simple writing explaining my adventurous and funny morning I had. Never forget to do this when you have free time from responsibility and the reality society in America has created for this generation. Explore your youthful intuition and let nature be one of the best friends you could ever ask for!

ice is sharp and cold and you don’t wanna get frostbite during the winter months
i never wanted to step on the cracks
i never wanted to fall in so deep
painfully sobbing and at the very edge of drowning
i never wanted to get hypothermia from my fatal accident
i only wanted to step over the cracks
and return safely to the promised land of warm beds and train tracks

Somewhere along the line, you changed.
You built walls all around you
and wore armor against the world,
You guarded your heart so well you could behave as though you didn't have one at all,
Even now, it's a shabby broken thing
but you still have it.
Not a heart of stone nor of ice,
But a fragile heart of glass
Sharpened through all its edges to stop anyone from getting in,
To stop the pain from getting out,

I understand why you wear armour,
That's why I wear it too.

Winter bows his grisly head
when the trees bend low
Branches bear the heartless weight
of the ice and snow

Ponds turn into frosted glass
and diamond streams to jewels
Rivers turn to mirrored roads
and lakes to sapphire pools

Echoed cries of banished fowl
plead for hopeful spring
Not until the March wind blows
will the warbler sing

Winter's night of cold and dark
slowly turns to day
when the glaze and snowy drifts
gently melt away

New spring lifts her waking head
when the sun grows neigh
Buds and blooms unfurl with joy
reaching for the sky

A skater lone soars on new ice.
I hold my breath as I observe
His every pirouette and swerve.

Yesterday, the water lapped a chilling shore;
Today a brilliant skin holds sway.
Thickening hourly though it may,

I wonder at the nature of the glider there;
Does he consider life and death,
Or think beyond exultant breath

To be the first upon new winter's ice?
He sails along an ice-blade track,
Never falt'ring, never looking back.

Oh, I was young upon a time and flew
The way this skater now does fly,
But fear and "wisdom" hinder twice
While others soar above thin ice.

I walked to meet up with the dope dealer
To get some more of the soul stealer.