Frost

I’ve never been really good at trying to
Frost over my Self
Ice up my heart
Give my emotions
The deep freeze

I’m “weak”
And “emotional”
“Dramatic &
Prone to overreaction”

When I used sarcasm
To keep others at bay
And pretend
Not to care of be bleeding out
I was told that my wit
Was too sharp
And actually frightened others

Nowadays, I’d probably say,
Good! Fuck ’em!
But, back then,
I tempered my tongue,
Hemmed in my hurt.

I didn’t cry for a very long time
Because, well, it was a visible sign
Of weakness.
Now there are regular times
When I’ll break into tears.
At first, I hated it
& myself.
Now, I don’t especially love it,
But I laugh about it – I’m unthawing
Because I’ve never been good
At freezing over.

The more I learn to
Deal with my old hurts
And new ones,
To talk to myself
The way I talk to others,
To love on myself,
To have dreams and pursue them,
The more I realize
I’m not meant to be
An Ice Queen

I am nature’s bounty,
A cozy hug,
The warmth of a fire
Or the sun on your face.
I am green and growing things,
Even if I’ve been deep underground
With a coating of hoarfrost

I will keep blooming,
Gathering steam,
Spreading out shoots and vines and buds
And take over the frozen wasteland
Until it’s all garden once more.

(Photo credit to my friend, artist & Apple photographer Jill Lian.)

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