pity

a shiver,

and then,

again.

the sheets enveloping

me

are like ice.

somehow, i am freezing

myself.

i closed my windows

my doors

everything

to keep out the chill.

but now

i am simply

losing my warmth

alone.

frigid faces

press against

the panes.

i feel small

helpless

childish.

why won't i allow them

to help me?

i can warm myself,

i attempt to whisper

though my blue

trembling

lips.

i am so insignificant

i am so helpless.

stop watching me

shiver.

your stares

will not keep my tears

from freezing

to my

cheeks.

i must distance myself

from these prying

eyes--

i will not allow

myself to be saved

from my icy

solitude.

Author's Note

I felt the lower-case made the words seem smaller, less significant, and more helpless.

Reviews

[FJ Davis]

In order to escape "prying eyes"--which may simply represent most kinds of human interaction--the poet is willing to enter a state of virtual suspended animation.
"Icy solitude" sounds more like near total withdrawal than it does a death wish. "Icy oblivion" might been more indicative of a desire for the "big sleep." But, obviously, this last statement is highly speculative, since it is an attempt to discuss something you did not write.
It should be noted that the poet is actually closing out the warmth; he does not want it interfering with his being alone with his thoughts--or, maybe, just enjoying a quiet "shutdown."
I really like this piece, Ben; it is, as usual, well-conceived and uniquely presented.
As poetry, "Pity" certainly requires none.