PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

With the cold air streaming through my fingertips,

I almost wish to shield them and smother them with warmth,

But the chills that it creates are somehow more alleviating than staying warm.

I remember when we used to do this in winters past,

Except we were younger and didn't appreciate it back then.

We would just jump in the inviting snow,

And pretend we were on top of the world,

Thinking we'd never have to come down.

Things were so much simpler then,

Back when we were naive and ignorant.

We didn't know what hitting the bottom really meant,

And we weren't aware of the fact,

That in just a year we would sever contacts,

And try to cope with everything in different ways that weren't so innocent.

You found your method in a foreign substance,

And I dealt with everything in my writing,

Secretly hoping that one-day things could return and be the same.

But then, one-day, I had a realization,

This is about as good as it will get.



So, this is it, everything that we have come to,

Perhaps we saw it coming, when we could both see everything else falling apart,

It was just one more thing that we could see failing,

One more thing to say goodbye to and dismiss,

As if it were a bad habit.

So, we pretend nothing ever happened,

It is erasable, lost within time intervals.



Maybe if we would have never given each other the chance to fall,

And to ruin everything.

Maybe if we just didn't try, nothing would shatter beneath our feet.

Perhaps we wouldn't be trying to repair something that just got so lost.

And perhaps we wouldn't be beating ourselves with our memories.