Your deceit is ice
and it freezes my body to the core.
My fingers and hands become numb
and immobile;
I'm no longer able to reach out to
you.
My heart's temperature plummets
and sharp pieces of ice begin to
protrude.
Breaking off into my blood they
become icebergs
that coagulate and block my veins
and arteries.
They slowly kill me from within.
YOU ARE READING
Roman numerals that depict my inner sanity.
PoetryA collection of poems, ranging in size.