Coldness. 

Cold cuts through me to the core,

As winds whistle from beneath the door. 

Storms forming of winters gloom

pulled from slumber all too soon. 

This coldness is not my friend, 

I wonder will this shivering ever end. 

Coldness cutting me my bones do freeze,

as autumn skips through dying leaves. 

BlNkets and hot water bottles pulled into my chest,

I plead these heat will help me rest. 

Eyes sore and muscles long hurting after lack of sleep,

Coldness penetrates so deep. 

Coldness penetrates so deep,

Insomnia, anything, so those dreams they’ll keep. 
Karen Hayward ©2016

Goosebumps.

image

I sometimes think coldness is an implausible link in my anatomy,
A taunting source of feminine destruction
that bleeds through my mind spilling from my entirety.
The peppered puckering across my pale skin
is the war torn armour of life’s indestructible soldier.
Only, indestructible doesn’t mean pristine.

Karen Hayward ©2016 (words and image)