Author's note: when I wrote these two poems I was having a particularly bad day and decided to vent my pain through poetry. When I wrote these two, as well as dead end I paid particular attention to where the lines were ending. I also did my best to keep them in equal columns. Unfortunately, I couldn't replicate that on a word processer very well keeping the endings in correct places. So try to imagine them like that when you read them. Also, you should know that both these poems come from real experience, unlike most of my other poems. They are two of my personal favorites. Very close to my heart. That's why I'm grouping them together. That, and originally they were smushed together on the same page. And with that, I present Ice and Crash. Do enjoy. –ducky.
Frozen. Solid. Ice.
So cold. No warmth.
Ice kills. And there's no
Stopping it. It's poison touch
Will stop a heart in a second.
He's like ice. Pale, cold,
Beautiful. There is no doubt
He is just as evil as
The ice is. Yet so amazing.
Perfect to the last touch.
No flaws. No mistakes. If
They weren't so cold, I would
Love them. Beautiful as a
Blooming flower. There is only
One difference between him and
Ice. Ice can melt. It
Can turn into water and help
Things move on. It's balanced.
It will starve things and then
Bring them back to life.
He can't do that. He won't
Melt. He can't, won't, and
Will never show a trace of love.
Not even for those like me.
Willing to love him.
Blood runs down my mud covered legs, from my
Nose, turning them into paint splattered
Works of art. Brown and red. My head
Screams with pain and I can barely
Move my legs. I can feel mud on
My head, where I hit it. My nose bleeds
On at a mad pace. I pick myself up,
Painfully, and start dragging my scooter towards
My house. I'm alone and covered in my
Own blood. I bring my working arm
Up to my nose trying to stop the
Blood. It stains my hands red. My
Own blood. I wipe my nose again.
My right leg can barley bend. I'm
Moving slowly through the gray ally. Rain
Drips from a gutter down to a trash
Can lid. I worry. My mother, my brother,
They will be scared. Scared as hell.
I look back at my legs. Blood is
Dripping from them again. The bumps
In the back ally trip my scooter,
Tilting until it crashes into the back of
My leg. I wince in pain. My bare feet
Touch the glass at the bottom of a
Muddy puddle. Two cuts form on my left
Foot. Pain. I can see my back
Gate. And hear a car behind me. I
Open the gate, drop my scooter, and
Limp to the front door. I see my
Reflection in the glass of the
Storm door full on. Blood from my
Nose is everywhere. My shirt and
Shorts are covered in mud. My face
Is bloody, muddy, and teary. And
I can't smile. No matter how hard