Time and time again we struggle through the thick of it.
You, crying, me, somewhat steadfast, somehow unflinching.
Winter is near, I can feel it in my bones.
But I am ready for the cold. I have been preparing for those days, when the world is white, blinding, and silent.
So come, bring your iciest words to the table.
Give me shivers that last a life time, wake me in the dead of night, like it’s the dead of winter and my fan is still on and my blanket is thin and my bed is empty, save my hollow body.
Pour your liquid nitrogen breath down my throat, let it freeze me up, keep me stable. So I can’t fucking move anymore, so that I’m terrified I’ll break.
It’s alright. It’s okay. I’ll thaw eventually.
I might lose a finger, maybe a toe or two, god forbid something important, something
vital.
But in the end I’ll still walk, talk, pretend —
it’s okay, it’s alright.
Please, bring your mightiest blizzard.