Blessed be your lovely pants
The ones which shield you from cold and wet,
that add girth to your chicken legs,
and make you the man that you are.

A man who is warm, a man who is dry.
A man who, if hit by a flying ice pellet
Will remain unscarred
(as long as it doesn't hit you in the face).

Oops - did I hit your face with this sharp ice pellet?

This wretched season cannot be fought
without the slippery zipping sounds made by your beloved pants.
I will have my parents send your freedom pants immediately.
For I cannot bear the thought of your empty life
Without your trusty snowpants.

They unite!

The swish swish sound of snowpants as sure thighs stride
The crunch of wet snow under boots
The disobedient strands of hair escaped  from her mother's tightly braided handiwork
Whipping about according to the wind's will
Runny nose, watering blue eyes, and cheeks reddened to a rosy apple glow by winter's puppy dog nip

Intent on a snowfort and snow angel mission
With no break taken except to quench a thirst once in a while
Eyes close and mittens lift the glorious white mannah
Tongue and mouth delight in the taste of winter that the snow carries deep within her hold
Could any wonder be more beautiful than the bliss of an eight year old on a storm day?

my thighs are burning hot,
these skinny jeans feel like snowpants,

hands shaking ,
putting on a necklace,
can't stop dropping the clasp,
clasping onto breath.

cough gagging.

smelly feet.

electricity in my knees.

the creaking is so loud.

how do you do this?
who bestowed this magic
into your strong delicate hands?

falling into a bat of acid,
born another planet,
pulled the sword from the stone,

where does this power come from?
in a soft smile paired with linen eyes,
iridescent beams through my chest,

pulling on my tongue ,
you find my kryptonite,
and I was never a DC girl myself...

but maybe you are a beautiful mirror,
you reflect the powers of your opponent.
physically rather
than
spiritually

maybe the way you make me feel,
is more a reflection of my power,
exerted into a physicality.

weaves my veins into my bones,
blows up my diaphragm ,
hives on my neck..

the true power is within me, though.

this much love,
coming from a little freckled white girl,
is my greatest weapon.

for you will never feel as deeply as i have.

you will never laugh like i do,
but you will never hurt the same.

what a price to be passionate.

but more importantly.

what a power.

I’m a virgo

The ******

An earth sign

The seasons on this earth are so beautiful
I wish you could’ve seen the beauty in mine

But you are an aries

The ram

A fire sign

You were always warm
And I was warm too

But at times I could be cold
Rainy
Snowy
Sometimes even stormy

Perhaps that’s why you left

You never felt the need to invest in a rain jacket
Or snow tires

Because when you met me I was all sunshine
And glasses full of lemonade

You had no idea that I was temperate
My seasons were well defined

And when my winter months took you by surprise
You felt the cold creeping onto you
Your warmth refused to compete with my cold
And you left

Come back in a couple weeks
I promise it’ll be different

But just come prepared this time
With your umbrella
And your snowpants

It's nearly 7pm
Its peaceful and I'm hung over
Listening to tunes
Bobbing my head to
The sound of a new song
A friend recommended me.

A boy texts me
My friends all rallying around me
Like beautiful mermaids
We're out here crooning our songs
We're out here humming along.

My hair is ***** and the waves within it
Growing alongside the roots of trees
I believe in freedom, I believe in me.

I admit that Sundays have become
A little bit harder
There is an element of feeling bothered
I wonder if water
If the water leaks from the
Trunks of your eyes
When you think back on
Snapping me in front of
Paintings
That looked just like
That resembled me.

I feel your absence
I know you do too
But its time to go on
Its been time to go on.

I go on.