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Frozen

Is this really progress?

By Holding Hands With ShadowsPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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It’s warm and bright.

My arms spread wide.

It’s easy to dance along silver linings.

I didn’t know the linings were made of ice.

I spin and I spin,

Until the ground beneath me cracks.

Spider webs scatter underneath my feet,

Creeping out towards the horizon.

I’m frozen.

The rise and fall of my chest,

Every hesitant breath,

Makes the ice creek.

I’m so scared to go under.

It took so long to come up before,

To find my way beneath the ice.

I screamed and screamed,

My lungs filled with water.

I pounded on the ice,

Trying not to drown,

Until I finally made it up.

I got myself warm.

I got comfortable and I danced.

I threw caution to the wind.

I ignored the ice.

I knew I could slip,

But I forgot about the fall.

Now I remember.

I remember the cold,

I remember the dark.

So here I stay,

Too scared to move,

Frozen.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Holding Hands With Shadows

It's only a phase.

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