It's easier to hurt yourself in the winter,
To hide a jaded soul behind the itchiness of a pea coat.
It's easier to let a vibrant set of eyes turn
To mushy black, tarnished by heavy footsteps.
It's easier to stare at the gray and let time slip, melt - ironically - warm and gooey like honey.
The bruises and aching you've done is smothered
Mercilessly by fabric like drapes
Slung all over your body.
Can you bleed like the sky?
Shed your eggshell skin?
Can you turn into the slush of unforgiving boots?
In winter, the world idles.
The world stops turning, and spring can never quite soften your snow.
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Author:
jm (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 28th, 2016 18:31
- Comment from author about the poem: A messy + disjointed write I got off my brain.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
Offline)
Comments2
I am having a little trouble understanding. Perhaps all bundled up inside in the winter, unable to shed your heavy clothes and stiff boots, and never quite thawing out come spring. Perhaps a metaphor for someone's life living in a shell. Thanks for sharing.
To me the meaning sort of lies within the first few lines. Like the author is feeling hallow and it's easier to hide that in the winter when everyone is a little bit depressed than in the spring when everyone's "depression" is muffled by nice sunny days.
Thank you guys for you interpretations and such it means a lot!
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