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Cold Heart, Warm Hands
I stood throughout the seasons,
waiting to be changed
Flowers bloomed at my feet,
their petals brushing against my calves,
but I grew no roots
The sun reached down
and pet my hair
with calloused hands
that did not set me ablaze
I watched the wind dance
to no particular rhythm
Other spectators were moved,
swaying along happily;
I could not budge
The harshest winter yet
found my post
Without hesitation,
its talons ripped my chest apart
My soul dripped onto the snow,
staining the blanket,
bidding me a soft goodbye
As skin went numb,
I finally felt warm
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