Colder
Meeting you is akin to weary muscles
Caused by 6-degree winter
It was kiln over fire, where cold souls huddle
Until seasons caused it to falter
It was like icicles sticking on frostbitten skin
And lips the colour of Aster
It was a cold bath followed by a gust of wind
Planting goosebumps all over
I have never taken a plunge in the Atlantic
But I imagine it to be similar,
They say burning in passion was sadistic
But surely ice cuts farther
I was enjoying the warmth of you
Before it turned to a cloud of ice
Soaking in the heat you exude,
And now, covered in frostbites
And maybe that's what goes
When the hailstorm sets grey what once was blue
It may be true, but even so
I know the weather is cold but did you have to be too?
M
YOU ARE READING
All Love Lost
Poetry"Love is not lost after it is given. I have given love and it has stayed and they have been grateful for it. If I have removed pain in any way then I know that I have not loved for nothing."
