Cold

Cold

A Poem by ahazyjane

Depression

Is a termite in the walls.

You don't have to see it to know it's there,

Eating away at the foundation.

There is an endless, biting chill that lives beneath my skin.

It permeates the soul,

No Indian summer heat wave could warm the death cold I wear like pawnshop jewelry-

Around my neck and on my wrists-against my throat, over my pulse.

It has become so ordinary for me, to feel the cold of the dead even as I withstand every insufferably long day of the living...that I now understand why Sylvia Plath chose suicide by closing her head in an oven

How you can die for that warmth...

It is so isolating

It is so very quiet

Palpable.

How long I can be mesmerized by warm things-

Puddles of melted candle wax-

House-cats sleeping in the last slice of sun on the windowsill-

The slow, hot crawl of heroin up a taut lavender vein-

But the heat can never quite reach my skin.

And to those who quote the gospel to a sinner like me,

I think at least perhaps in the flames of Hell I will be rid of this endless chill.

© 2016 ahazyjane


Author's Note

ahazyjane
this is just a simple free-write I did at work. Let me know what you think.

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Reviews

Very powerful. I know firsthand how much a curse heroin can be and how depression can be almost addicting. I liked it and want to read more from you. :)

Posted 7 Years Ago


i did my masters thesis on Plath...and the allusion to her, the oven, the warmth---her life so chilled by a distant father, a cheating husband, her manic depression...so good. the looking for a way out.

i really like the "death cold worn like pawnshop jewelry"
fantastic lines....utterly wish i had thought of that image...

others will judge us...and perhaps hell will welcome some of us with open arms...but who is to know.

sometimes life gets overwhelming and we think of ways out...been there, done that.

really strong poem, glad i came upon it.

j.

Posted 7 Years Ago


I love the description...you've captured it very well. Lots of imagery here. And I like the flow of this poem. You started with shorter lines...and they built in length and intensity. It was like a building plot...drawing the reader in deeper and deeper until we could feel it right along with you. Nice job.

Posted 7 Years Ago


I am always amazed to see such pretty girls writing about depression. Even with a husband and kids I see it. I've had friends that committed suicide and never saw it coming. Depression is a voice only those affected can hear. Don't let it sway you ever. Keep writing pretty girl.

Posted 7 Years Ago


From the first four lines i was dawn in. Your writing is beauitfully written but the tale is so sad. The last sentence in particular is so powerful but unfortunately for some probably so true.

Your writing is incredible given that in such a short poem there is so much emotion going on here i find it remarkable that you just free wrote it. AMAZING!

Mark.

Posted 7 Years Ago


Free write? Are you frick'n kidding me? Depression is such a complex emotion that often times it's nearly impossible to capture in words it's true identity. Meaning, it's so difficult to relay to others what it's truly like. But here you did it perfectly. And in a free write ? Again...are you you frick'n kidding me. I mean this with the utmost of respect. There was line after line after line that was right on point ...and that's not an easy thing to do. I was almost mesmerized by your poem and thought you did a great job throughout but especially the ending. In case you didn't notice, I really liked it.

Posted 7 Years Ago


If making me feel something was your goal, you most definitely succeeded. This poem is so utterly depressing but so absolutely real. Every line brings chills to my skin and the description is amazing. Your use of metaphor is superb and your play on the senses is stunning. Amazing job, I cannot wait to read more from you!!

Posted 7 Years Ago


A very descriptive poem. It's very real indeed-for many! You did a great job with this poem.

Posted 7 Years Ago



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Added on October 25, 2016
Last Updated on October 26, 2016
Tags: poetry, free-write, prose, thoughts, writing, poet, depression, Sylvia Plath, original, sad, drugs, metaphor

Author

ahazyjane
ahazyjane

VA



About
I'm Amanda. 21. Wild-child. Train-wreck. Lover of all things dark and beautiful. I write words that make me feel something. My goal is to make you feel something, too. more..

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