OUT OF PLACE

8/11/16

at first i cry when my coat comes off,

skin contacts cold wind --

trying to hold off tears

when the drift meets my shins,

and it’s with fear that i step through the snow,

my virgin mind whirring

through flurries and curling my toes,

to scream as loud as a human can scream

while the sleet pelts down in icy sheets

and even until my feet feel as though

they want to be part of the freezing cold.

while i trudge,

i begrudgingly think:

if this s**t is all i’ve got,

maybe it’s not the ice that’s cold,

maybe i’m just too hot.

Author's Note

could i get some critique? i'd really like to hear what you think of my writing

Reviews

[SporadicMessanger]

Really good, format is interesting, not sure how the stanzas are worked out. I really like the last two lines.