My love is winter

The pain is searing in my cheeks, my fingers are the ice taps hanging from the trees and the roofs.

I am walking through the streets of the city, the ground is crunching underneath my boots. Your hand is holding mine, though I do not feel warm at all. 

I am so confused, like the directions the snowflakes fall outside. Thoughts going in every direction, just like the snow. My head feels homeless, it has no root to where these thoughts are going.

My feelings are frozen much like the dreaded carpets of thick powder falling from the sky like cocaine.

My love is winter, my love is lost. It feels like I should wait for you, but I don't know if I can. 

I pull my scarf over my mouth, I can smell my perfume heavily on the scarf. A smell of mandarin, lemons and fresh rain.

Your warm breath on my forhead as you bow down to kiss it makes me feel all warm inside. Like I actually deserve to be alive, to experience this winter. And you. Us.

Reviews

[fireblossom]

You have these visions painted on feelings. You stand aside and allow them to find life on paper. You write what you know and that makes your writing honest. You think like a writer and write like a deep thinker and feeler. This makes your writing compelling to the reader.

A great writer once said in a letter to a friend, "Had I more time this letter would be shorter". I love that. If there is a way to tell a story in one word we should find that word. You seem to know this principle.

All the best to you.

[Christina Reed]

Thank you so much. I am a deep thinker and feeler, it is a blessing and a curse. In poetry it is a blessing. So liberating to put feelings on paper. Thank you for the review. xx