Cold
Wind
Dust
The storm was a rush
It dips
into a creek
which turns and tips into a river
Grasping on to things as though lint
Thus, the dust is vigilant-
Shakes me, but now
the weather, quite contagious
It’s chilly like ice, my hands glued to cold ground
And
cold glued to my hands
I turn up my ear because I hear
Laughter, but it’s not, instead it’s
Snow crashing down like vases
and I,
just on the ground;
never get back up
But when the wind sprints past me
It turns coldness into outrage
Because that’s that voice inside
of me, ever so enraged
It’s cold right now, winter
But as the ice glued to my hands seeps
down and melts
“It’s summer”, says the voice in my head
It’s the voice that says “get over it”
But lends a hand laid out to me
It’s the same voice inside of me
That laughs with me while watching
Gilmore Girls
The voice that tells me it’s okay
That warns me,
“stay away”
Even before something happens
It’s the voice that keeps me going
It’s the voice that I’ve been knowing
for so long
Without it, I wouldn’t be me, I’d be
someone else
in their intricacy…