he came too late. shes too far gone.

gently drifting alond with this cool winter breze 

she stands as a statue

sweater sleaves covering her flushed, frozen face

tears turning to solid ice in her eyes before they could escape

toes lost in powdered sugar snow

leaking through her skin and seeping into her bloodstream

creating iceflows through her veins.

she dropps to her knees

her february sorrow incapsulating her 

ice crystals tip-toeing through the ocean waves in her hair

holding firmly to her batting eyelashes.

its cold.

he comes from behind


his arms become blanket aound her 

he believes he posseses the power to warm her

little does he know 

that solid ice does not melt back into a person

it merely

ever so slowly

melts into the ground.



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