Frosted Over

In my memory

There are things I wish to forget,

The silence of heartbreak

The cold snares of pain

And a voice so familiar

All these my heart wishes to forget.

They swim freely

Like boats anchored at shore,

My heart is but an easel

A canvas born to express beauty

But burnt in me are painful thoughts

Thoughts van Gogh would be proud of.

Underneath my thoughts

Warmth feels smothered,

His breath short from neglect

His bones rigid from lack of use

His bow broken from excess force

Now cold seems so warm.

I’m here

A picture born to inspire,

Yet I am stale like spoiled milk

Where does my heart lie

This is my plea

Let warmth be seen

Lest I’m frosted over.

Dearest heart

When will you forget,

Here in this world

You’ve been trapped in distraction

Distracted pieces float by unchecked

Here in this heart, I’m enlightened

Enlightened but still naive

In my memory

I wish to forget.

This was written by our contributing writer, Adiela Michael.

Image Source: Pexels, Clicker Happy


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