All that's left to die on the ice.

I fell through the ice

and grew limbs

unaccustomed

to my form

while drifting.

I don't think I miss the simple hum of youth?

But the tattoo pierced

against my breast tells me otherwise

reminding me

that I could still become someone that I hate.

I kissed his lips

and fell through the ice

growing limbs

unaccustomed

to my need to give him the finger when I see him on the street.

Restlessly

my hate

comes down

to phone calls

needed

and not made

while

my secrets

that I hid from his so diligently

and

with such purpose

were given away freely.

I ran my hands through his hair

kissed his lips

and fell through the ice

growing limbs

unaccustomed

to feeling disgust on my heart when I look at him.

His name

is stippled

with permanent marker

on my finger like a ring

binding me to him.

I screamed

falling through the ice

growing limbs

unaccustomed

to waiting

for my feelings to harden;

my voice raspy

against his neck.

These limbs

that I have grown

grow silvery against him.

I held on-

I wouldn't let go

and my hair curled with the water

and my lips found his

these limbs

extending

unaccustomed

to him not being here.