fear has kept you frosty, child.
sick of trying to mend old wounds
with 80 proof and grandma’s hymnals
you opted instead for icicles
figuring they’d be enough to stop the profuse bleeding
brought on my trauma’s heavy hand.
you thought a cold heart would kill off
even the slightest hint of pain;
theorized that hurt could heal if cryogenically frozen.
instead, in the process of thawing yourself out
you found out the pain incubates
evolving and giving birth to something entirely different,
something you don’t even recognize as what you tried to freeze out.
if you can, go easy as you warm up.
don’t turn the heat up too high
or you’ll break.
tyra nicole 