A Short Tale of Ice

 

You are like ice,
the ice I hold in my hand.
I try to give you warmth,
the warmth you desire
just to make you happy.
And yet, you melt
and I am left with
an empty hand,
an empty heart. 
You are gone.

Then your return
with your friend salt
expecting my warmth.
You tell me to squeeze
Squeeze my warmth
into you, regardless of my pain.
You beg and plead
wondering where my love is.
It's gone.

 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741