The Ice Princess

The steam spirals out of my mouth as I speak,

I huddle into my scarf to shelter from the breeze,

And the unstable truths I am trying to tell him,

I feel braver outside, away from the warm safety net.

His raw cheeks flush a deeper shade of red,

He is embarrassed by my honesty,

The colour pollutes his otherwise pallid complexion,

I hate it. I am foolish.

I laugh it off and make sure we’re okay,

We’re not.

My mind is numb,

Or perhaps brain freeze from breathing,

From trying to steady the rhythm of my world.

This season reminds me why I hate him,

We’re in the same place every year,

Never moving or changing,

Or progressing towards a happy ending,

I only want to be his princess.

His explanation hangs in mid-air,

Like an snowflake,

Before bludgeoning the ground gracefully,

A thousand icicles pierce my exposed skin,

Searching for the entry point,

But the words have already wounded,

I freeze him out.

I put my gloves on,

And welcome in the Ice Queen Regime.

Little Ginge x

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