New Kind of Cold

March 19, 2009
A down fall of sugary snow flakes dance upon her lifeless shoulders
frosty ice sickles hangin form the white trees right above
whispy, white clouds overwhelming the gloomy gray winter sky
icey stepping stones pave the path to the bench she waits on.

Tear stained, deep green eyes search for the slightest sign
of the foot steps she came to know by heart
desperate for just one last glimpse of the heart she used to hold
fooled by the dim hope of his desperately longed for arrival.

Benches and picnic tables hidden by a blanket of white snow
empty walkways covered with pale, blue slippery ice
lonely and cold her breath fills the small space only her eyes can see
shivering, mitten covered hands rest tightly folded on her lap.

Hoping that maybe the place they met could fill her hollow heart
with love bound memories of the way they used to be
bitterly cold wind blows the champaigne blond hair from her eyes
as the young couple holding hands passes her frozen figure.

The crowded streets, people on every piece of frozen pavement
so full of heart shaped memories and echos of his laughter
flashbacks of his warm red lips upon her skin
drown out all the sound and people as they rush past.

Feeling so overwhelmed and suddenly very aware
that this cold and wonderful place where she lived her whole life
is now full of nothing but bitter sweet memoirs of her splintered, aching heart
and a new, brutally mind shattering kind of cold.

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