Winter

My fingers and toes are cold. The air around me is sweltering but I can't seem to gather that heat. My nose is red and running like a spout. The people around me watch, unamused and confused by the spectical of it all. Nobody seems to know what's wrong with me, and I don't know either. My insides have frozen and the world around me is melting. The coldness of others' remarks, and unfelt feelings have cooled my soul. And everyone else is being swarmed by it all. I've been discluded from it again, and instead of shorts and a crop top soaking up the sun, I shiver in the corner wearing a winter coat. Trying my best to shelter myself from weather far away. I've begun to torture myself before the blizzard has even come. It's as though I can never leave the storm behind. While everyone else has long forgotten and moved on, I'm still trying to rub my goosebumps down. Still trying to get over winter while it's summer.

Because you were winter, and instead of moving on like everyone else. Instead of putting away the long sleeve shirts and heavy boots, I've kept them on because I'm afraid that next winter will be worse. I'm afraid that I'll freeze again, so I never let myself get warm. So I sit, freezing in the middle of summer.

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