below freezing

“There is no time”

Said the snow,

“Why?”

I asked.

The snow thrust in the wind,

Wild,

Clumsy,

Mocking me in its surrender to a natural chaos,

Knowing I resist a force much like the wind.

Just as born,

Just as womb,

Just as fate,

But why is there no time?

I asked.

It was done speaking to me.

I wish I could call it the silent treatment.

But my head is loud and it’s cold outside,

I wonder if it knows how much it hurts me,

Pains me,

Knots my organs and calls it a present,

A bow of the insides I do not utilize because,

God,

Snow,

Wind earth and womb,

I am scared.

Well a part of me is,

A 6-year-old silenced,

Once forced quiet but bound to belt,

Part of me screams,

And screams and screams,

And that is why the silent treatment doesn’t work on a girl like me,

A woman like me,

A writer like me.

This is a big world,

A big big world,

And I,

Am a small dancer on a big stage and I’m forgetting all the steps,

And the lights are real bright,

They tell me I’m special,

They say,

“Move your feet baby only ghosts stand still and watch the living indulge in life”

‘I’m trying’

I thought,

The talent,

A mountain.

The desire, 

A cave.

And I never liked the dark and all of its uncertainty.

I think a part of it is a deep fear that the world is against me,

I’ve come to learn it doesn’t give a fuck,

But I’ve come to learn,

that I do.

I give a fuck.

About the steps,

The cave,

The wind,

Rolling hills that made me gentler,

A jealous world that made me solidify from,

Cloud,

To snow,

And I’m still learning how to let the wind disperse me,

Let it heal me,

Let it be a mother to me,

The snow said, “there is no time”,

And I said,

“Just hold me here then”