my friend gets up
in studio class
and sings the same song
you sang two years ago.
it's beautiful.
he sounds beautiful,
but something inside me
cracks.
i am walking across
a frozen lake
and when he opens
his mouth and that first
note slips out
my foot shatters the ice
and i fall right into
the frigid water.
i spend the entirety
of that song gritting my teeth
and clenching my fists,
trying to keep a smile
plastered on my face
so he knows it's not him,
it's not his voice.
trying not to let anybody know
i feel like i'm drowning.
when the final chord
plays, i shiver,
pull myself onto the shore.
cough up icicles
and peel frost away
from my eyebrows.
even after two years,
i still find it strange how
the smallest reminders
of you zap the warmth
from me and leave me
frozen.
YOU ARE READING
how the words come
Poetry"this is the poetry that has come from finally realizing it is okay to be okay but also not okay at the same time." ~ 'how the words come' tells the story of overcoming the aftermath of an emotionally abusive relationship. the book is separated into...
