A dark emptiness hesitates;
Autumn sparks a flame into the sky.
The creeping winter brings me
Chills, and the ravens of the snow
Appear far too early.

Keep Father Cold away for just a little longer.
These brittle bones can’t handle bitter cold
Until these wounds are cauterized and
I feel the warmth in my blood again.
Give me time to hibernate.

it's the hot days that ache the most
dull, nearly unnoticeable
as i watch the sun drip down my walls and await... what?
perhaps nimble fingers splitting me open,
prodding at my organs?
at least maybe then
i'd be able to feel something
besides overheated

watch dust dance in the amber light
and listen to the drone of an aged box fan
feeling the seconds tick by
one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten

it's a strange pain, one that spreads from my core out to my extremities
not the pain of something inside but a lack thereof
it, like the time, drips like molasses, like honey, golden as the sunlight,
and it ties down my limbs to uncomfortably warm sheets

it feels as if i've been waiting
and waiting
and waiting
for something
that will never come

on these days i have no choice
but to listen to the hollowness
a sorrow both gripping and just beyond my reach
and i'm never quite sure what my brain is wanting me to do at these moments
is it simply searching
for thoughts to fill my mind,
the silence?
in that case, should i lay back,
let the numbness and the aches wash over me
like hot flashes?
surrender?
let the hole cave in?
or is it trying to inspire me?
should i take this as an initiative?
become the person i've always wanted to be,
not a dilettante,
not a liar?

perhaps this uncertainty
is worse than the sweat

Knock knock.
I heard it in my sleep,
in my head,
I heard the knocking
between the weather change,
between the fleeting cold mornings
and the calm of the sun on my afternoon skin.
I heard the knock of it all coming together,
the season, waking me from the nightmare.

fingers curl into loose fists,
grasping softly at the frigid air in hopes of
feeling the temperature change.

january, i adore you.

a fresh start, a blank slate: one entire year
of endless possibility.
january, you are freezing;
but with you comes change.

i love you, i do. but please excuse
the way my hands hold out
to grasp at March’s warmer breaths

i, too, wish to breathe a new life
warm and
full of sunshine

I feel my body jolting,
I can't get away,
I'm locked in my bed,
Depression,
Eating me away,
Part of me feels everything,
and the other part,
Stops me,
Frozen in place,
What do I do,
I need to go,
But I can't,
*******,
Move.