The icicles have started to drop
In a reprieve over zero degrees
These daggers, these sharks teeth beneath
Clung to the eaves like frozen feelings
Waiting to reveal
Still whole but diminished, eroded still able to feel
Shadows of themselves they fall- all finished
On the floor, its like they corroded.
The pools make lakes with the lonely
wilting around zero who goaded
Like the lonely hour at 3 am
When we are all vulnerable and alone
The purity of what could have been, finally on display
vultures pick through the wreckage
And the water finds a place to drain in these puddles
In this pyre peckish are the huddles of the lonely
Still pleading their stay
Awaiting evaporation in the misery of the drain
A clutter of spikes in the gutter under stars
And when warmer weather calls
It all begins again this evaporation this rain
clouds that grey again, here come the scars
Droplets that descend
Seeking out new friends
To start this process of hurting hearts
Stabbing shapes they form
The slender body’s with piercing tip
Like the viscera, a word torn from the shunned
The wry smile and curled lip of them
Looking beautiful, strung
But waiting to sting.
I could eat them, cool a fevered brow
I could flavour them and call them sorbet
I could push negative feelings away
Use them as kaleidoscopes somehow
Messing with winter sun rays
Making beautiful shapes
Trying to change the Trojans inside.