"wintergirl" poems
And the problem is
No one's a wintergirl forever
For in this wintergirl wasteland
You either thaw
Or freeze.
We're all stuck.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC
bone chilling moments
aren't what they seem to be.
my body resembles a corpse,
freezing to the tips of my toes,
with an ice cold heart
beating just enough to keep me alive.
i'm a dead girl walking,
littered in lanugo and
blue bruised, broken ribs,
and paper thin skin
caving in on itself
as if collapsing is inevitable.
bile inhabits my stomach,
yet hunger will always be
the second most important anyway.
pink, swollen cheeks are
replaced by hollow caverns
not even bears want to enter.
"i am an iceberg drifting to
the edge of the map,"
a girl who wants to be real-
but can't.
the blizzard winds in my head
have become too heavy to thaw out
and i can slowly feel my carcass of a body
cast away with the rest of my past.
i am gone.
i am free.
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 6:50 PM UTC
Something in me grew cold one day
Teardrop icicles hung from my cheeks
I yearned for a love to thaw out
My wintergirl heart.
I searched for love in starvation
I searched for warmth in purging
I searched for feelings in cuts
I searched for acceptance in him.
I opened my body
instead of my heart.
and nothing was changed
My heart remained cold
My body still weak
You couldn't save me
and that's okay
I'm thawing now
My suns come out
It still gets chilly
But I'm okay
(I don't know if you care)
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
people always name me
label me
for my season
a petty qualm
a minor annoyance
but annoying all the same
hey spring! they yell, like that makes them clever
hello winter, they crow
like I haven't heard it all before
sometimes I just want to scream
my name is Autumn
not winter
not spring
not summer
Autumn
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
The hands on the clock
Swear that they're ticking.
But I don't hear a sound.
****
Every second feels like an hour.
Yet somehow,
I still manage to lose track of time.
The last time I checked
I was hardly 16 years old
Shaking, alone,
Clenching a razor on my bedroom floor,
Pleading to god,
Pleading to anyone who would listen.
Take the pain away.
Or to just take me away.
But you see
I just looked up
And now I'm almost 20, going to college
Trying to balance the worlds weight
On my fragile shoulder blades.
I could tell you the square root of i
And what the Odyssey is all about.
What I couldn't tell you,
Is what I've done the past four years.
It's all a blur
*** the clock keeps on ticking
Producing static in my brain
The worlds spinning so fast I can hardly see
I want the dirt to bury me
6ft under.
Underneath all of the snow
Until the cold finally,
freezes over my wintergirl heart
Until its muffled "boom, boom"
Is put to a final rest
And all thats left to be heard is
The clocks hands
Tick...tock....
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
I am bone-white
Am I your skeleton
Or the ghost of a thousand
Pages torn from ivory books
Do you dare touch me --
Will I start to flake
Or crumble into chalk
Powder to be scattered by
The winds to the sky
I am coloured in
Or at least heavily painted
Into the tones of
A girl who could almost
Be real in the daylight
And my ostentatious use
Of lipstick slashes
My skilfully covered face
I am a walking mirage
In supplication I stretch
Cold hands to you
Or to the careless sun
I know not what I seek
Or if it even really exists
I walk in life like
Everything is certain while
I crack inside --
My mind is fragile at best
I am invisible
Am I your shadow now
In the dark I am
Completely indistinguishable
So weak is the fire
That once blazed in
My now glazed eyes
I have been entirely drained
I am my own vampire
I am the winter
Or at least a wintergirl
Ice forms my still heart
Or maybe it fills
The place where a human
Heart used to beat
Fluttering like robin's wings
Avoiding the snow --
I let the chill consume me
I am the best example
Of how you can waste a life
Of time unwisely spent
And all the wrong
Choices are embodied in me
Watching the sand slide
The hours slip by
Through my quivering hands
I am out of time.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 7:25 PM UTC
there are these girls
with flowing golden hair
radiating against their vibrant auras
on a sunset along the shore
and those girls,
with icicles in their stares
who spoke sentences that leave you with a frostbite
there are summer girls and winter girls-
and she's more of a summer girl;
i can see why you fell for her,
the sun and all the forest fires she's started in the folds of your paper heart, torches lighting up every time you hold her hand
of course who can forget the orange glow the world around gets every time her lips are pressed against yours?
she's the epitome of a perfect sky capturing all the gleam you've ever and never thought of
then comes the winter girl
a hundred and one warnings about her have been told
number one: she's crystalline and soon you'll be nothing but jagged cracks
number two:she's not as pure as snow is
number three: you do not want to turn into a hypothermic misanthropy so run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run
yet somehow underneath the layers of her icy composure
lie delicate snowflake structures-
you get a glimpse of what's underneath the tip of the iceberg
and she proved the warnings wrong one at a time
it's like you're ice skating for the first time, tripping, but she's there to catch you just in time
she'll remind you of the giddiness of the snowball fights you had with your childhood friends all those decembers ago
suddenly being with her feels as right as a warm cup of chocolate on the first snowfall
and you dwell in her chilling comfort once the sun vanishes, taking away your summer girl
but in the end,
you still choose to end up with your summer girl and the bronze sparkling moments
leaving the wintergirl caught up in her blizzards in reckless abandon , existence crumbling
and i understand why
for who would choose having no permanent residence over a fully furnished home?
but then i should have told you from the start,the secret:
you’re not suppose to choose between those girls
or even turn them into something but just a plain casualty
because summer girls' flames will engulf your whole being until you're robbed of the capacity to blow out the candles
you'll strike all the matches you can find just so the love will never turn lukewarm
and you'll thaw the winter girl's frozen soul even if it numbs you to the core
these girls, they're powerful gypsies,
personifications of destructive illustrious love
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 10:35 AM UTC