Hibernating

The winter snow told me to relax,

things will work out,

just give it time.

And if it’s not okay,

have a cup of tea

and a warm blanket.

Spring will be here

and you’ll be good again.

Winters are for hibernating,

growing and healing.

But then why,

I ask myself,

do I always break down

when winter comes around?

Bitter Winds | Poem

I do miss it sometimes.

I miss the closeness,

I miss the warm feeling-

I’ve been so cold lately.

I fear, as I always do

that I won’t feel it again.

I’m destined for a life

of freezing, bitter winds.

But I’m tired of killing myself

over people who aren’t

worth a scratch or a scrape.

So, I’ll risk the bitter winds,

because I won’t freeze over

and someday I’ll find

someone worth dying for.


Oceanic Heartbreak

It felt like drowning,

yet no one could pull me out of the water.

It felt like a pressure on my chest,

but I was alone in this room.

Once it felt like a burning in my heart,

the kind that made me smile for days on end.

Then it felt like drowning again,

mixed with fire and all I could see was you.

It felt like years,

before I could smile like I once did,

but then I did again,

and it felt like floating.


Lazy Day | Flash Fiction

The rain out my window holding me captive in my bed until it lets up. I toss and turn, but can’t bring myself to pull down the covers, afraid to introduce myself to the cold that is Not My Blankets. So, I pull them up to my shoulders, curl up into a ball, and fall back asleep once again. Time passes and suddenly it’s afternoon. Did I really spend all morning in bed? The rain has let up, but now I’m just groggy. A wave of uselessness takes over me and I force myself up.

I brew a cup of coffee and figure out ways to salvage this day. The grogginess never seems to disappear as I scroll through social medias and notifications from my lengthy sleep. I spend the rest of the day yawning, cursing myself for sleeping in, and not doing much of anything. But it’s good to have days like today, I reassure myself as I drift off to sleep again that night.


I miss the feeling

I miss the feeling,

that feeling of being at home

with you.

The only problem is

there is no

you.

There is only

me

and what good does it do

when it’s late

and I’m freezing over?

My sheets don’t suffice

when all my dreams

are of your cold, bitter winds.


Came back from the dead | Haiku

Came back from the dead,

treaded a fine line between

thriving and rotting.


I don’t usually do haikus, but I was writing this while doing warm ups and I liked it, so here it is.

Winter Mornings

The chill in the air,

the calm winter snow,

tells me I’ll be okay.

And if not today,

soon.

The leafless trees

and the desolate dirt trail,

now shrouded in white

and slowing down travelers.

Life stops in the winter

and lets me breathe.

I’d never met a morning I liked

until I met a northern winter morning.

The comfortable silence,

the perpetual, still air.

I glance outside

and I regain a part of me I once lost.


Like I Once Did

I drove until I reached the shore,

to find out I don’t love you like I once did.

A wave of relief took over me

as the ocean enveloped me.

I am home again.


The Dead of Winter

The wind was harsh, cutting into our faces like daggers, leaving us red in the face and nearly frostbitten. The dead of winter never felt so dead as we trudged down the road to the gas station to pick up hot chocolate mix. It was ironic, the heat wasn’t kicking on at our apartment, so we nearly got frostbite trying to buy something that’ll warm us up. If we make it, it’ll be a story to tell, but for now I just want to get out of the snow. The snowshoes we dug out of the closet were sinking into the snow more than usual.

“I think it’s time to get new snowshoes.” I yelled through the tunnel of wind.

“What?” Eva yelled back, squinting to see me through the snow still falling.

“Need new snowshoes!” I said simply.

“Yap!” Eva said, or that’s what it sounded like. She said something else, but it was muffled behind the snow.

I paused, turned around, and squinting said, “Huh?”

“Never mind, go.” She put her hands on my shoulders and turned me around, patting my shoulders before letting me go.

Though the cold tried to break through my spirit and render me useless, having Eva with me to make this two-mile trek kept me warm.


Anxiety

I have become

Nothing

Attempting to become

Less nervous.

But now I don’t think

I don’t speak;

I am nothing.

I worry

For my future

But that just keeps the fire burning.

Is there an end?

Or am I the end?