the frost melted
on our noses,
the icycles
vanished slowly
as the spring season
swept them
under the rug
of grass and moss.
your heart liquified
and flooded
the pastel-painted
room, you drowned
the flowers and
i went with them.
winter season’s over,
she took the cold-hearted
and their lovers with her.
It was the first of March, time for Spring. Except, Nature had other ideas. We got the first frost of the year, in fact the first frost of the whole winter. We got snow, white, pristine, enchanting, covering everything. It was a beautiful sight, maybe made even more compelling because of how unexpected it was. Not even the forecast agencies knew snow was coming.
It was a cold morning. Especially when you have no indoor plumbing. And so it was an early morning trip to the outhouse. Not a pleasant visit to be sure. He had found that the best way was not to hesitate. Just go in and do your business and get it done.
I knew she’d steal the show the moment she came out. Without even trying, she could have an audience of grown men and women drooling at her feet, ready to abide by whatever commands she pleased herself to give. That must be her superpower. Her skin shone like sweet dripping chocolate you’d be ready to bend and crack your neck in whatever direction just to have a lick of. And today, on it sat the whitest gown I’d ever seen. It must have been made from frost. From the lace to the pearls to the frilly material encircling her neck like exotic green creepers decorating an Italian wall. There was elegance and royalty in the whiteness of the material she wore. She commanded respect. And when she smiled, it was as though she took your heart into her taloned grip, smiling, darkly, squeezing and owning you by marking her name and face into your bleeding organ. Your whizzing and begging did nothing to stop her. You didn’t even want to stop her. I know I didn’t.
The harsh winter never ends it seems. Year by year I wake up to the disapointing sun that doesn’t seem to want to wake up anymore than I do. A long haul to work later and maybe things aren’t so bad. Maybe the cold of last year won’t be the same this time, not with her in this season. Not with that tad bit of warmth I ever so missed.
It never seems to end, this harsh frosty winter. Every year I wake up to the bleak dragging of a sun who doesn’t want to get up anymore than I do. A long haul to work later but maybe the sound of her voice makes the cold winter snow a little bit brighter. A little more like a winter I won’t never forget
Frost on my heart you can say it’s been frozen
This life I’m living now isn’t the one I would have chosen
But the choice wasn’t mine it was situations and time now a heart made of frost is the heart that is mine
She smiled at the complement, but her smile had a covering of frost on it. She knew that the person talking to her was just pandering for her attention, maybe hoping she could do something for him to boost his career.
Frost on my beard
I lost all control
I’ve been frozen for 700 years
Now to be brought back home
A place where I lived
So long ago
Now I have come back
To reap what I sowed
Frost on my beard
I lost all control
I’ve been frozen for 700 years
Now to be brought back home
A place where I lived
So long ago
Now I have come back
To reap what I sowed
the frost melted
on our noses,
the icycles
vanished slowly
as the spring season
swept them
under the rug
of grass and moss.
your heart liquified
and flooded
the pastel-painted
room, you drowned
the flowers and
i went with them.
winter season’s over,
she took the cold-hearted
and their lovers with her.
frost
It was the first of March, time for Spring. Except, Nature had other ideas. We got the first frost of the year, in fact the first frost of the whole winter. We got snow, white, pristine, enchanting, covering everything. It was a beautiful sight, maybe made even more compelling because of how unexpected it was. Not even the forecast agencies knew snow was coming.
Frost feathers, grass sheathed in white prickles, breath puffed out as a cloud rising, hands in armpits, shivering, scraping off windshield
It was a cold morning. Especially when you have no indoor plumbing. And so it was an early morning trip to the outhouse. Not a pleasant visit to be sure. He had found that the best way was not to hesitate. Just go in and do your business and get it done.
I knew she’d steal the show the moment she came out. Without even trying, she could have an audience of grown men and women drooling at her feet, ready to abide by whatever commands she pleased herself to give. That must be her superpower. Her skin shone like sweet dripping chocolate you’d be ready to bend and crack your neck in whatever direction just to have a lick of. And today, on it sat the whitest gown I’d ever seen. It must have been made from frost. From the lace to the pearls to the frilly material encircling her neck like exotic green creepers decorating an Italian wall. There was elegance and royalty in the whiteness of the material she wore. She commanded respect. And when she smiled, it was as though she took your heart into her taloned grip, smiling, darkly, squeezing and owning you by marking her name and face into your bleeding organ. Your whizzing and begging did nothing to stop her. You didn’t even want to stop her. I know I didn’t.
The harsh winter never ends it seems. Year by year I wake up to the disapointing sun that doesn’t seem to want to wake up anymore than I do. A long haul to work later and maybe things aren’t so bad. Maybe the cold of last year won’t be the same this time, not with her in this season. Not with that tad bit of warmth I ever so missed.
It never seems to end, this harsh frosty winter. Every year I wake up to the bleak dragging of a sun who doesn’t want to get up anymore than I do. A long haul to work later but maybe the sound of her voice makes the cold winter snow a little bit brighter. A little more like a winter I won’t never forget
Frost on my heart you can say it’s been frozen
This life I’m living now isn’t the one I would have chosen
But the choice wasn’t mine it was situations and time now a heart made of frost is the heart that is mine
She smiled at the complement, but her smile had a covering of frost on it. She knew that the person talking to her was just pandering for her attention, maybe hoping she could do something for him to boost his career.
Frost on my beard
I lost all control
I’ve been frozen for 700 years
Now to be brought back home
A place where I lived
So long ago
Now I have come back
To reap what I sowed
Frost on my beard
I lost all control
I’ve been frozen for 700 years
Now to be brought back home
A place where I lived
So long ago
Now I have come back
To reap what I sowed