These thoughts so often now seep

and crawl into the folds of my brain

and settle in between its soft tissues,

saturating and bonding with the rest.

Your winter comes to call,

to lay its hurt down.

The words arrive in flurries.

You obscure my vision for all else.

Ice in the brain, ice in the brain.

You exit and leave only the cold,

my mind to atrophy

after your echoes have knocked down icicles

to slice into me

and leave rivers where warmth once was.

I swear I'm back the moment it all melts

licking at puddles in my palms

to tide me over until I find your face.

This is crippling.

Oh, how I long to bring you down to my level

and make you stay.

I could take you and keep you and twist you.

But I'd be sorry.

That's the difference between you and me.