Ice.
Water.
Hands
Grabbing for air
For leverage.
Drowning
Freezing.
Is that what it feels
To live in my heart.
Ice.
It seems to cut
To dry you up.
And those dearest to me
They live in my
Ice
Cold
Heart
And I'm tearing them
Freezing them
And they're breaking
Breaking
Bleeding
Because I won't let them thaw it.
YOU ARE READING
Aesthetic Writings
PoesíaJust aesthetic writings of all kinds. Inspired by aesthetics.
