Rigor

I held his hand, cold as ice
I held his gaze, fixed as ice
I held his heart, stiff as ice
I held his guts, pale as ice
I held his hair, thin as frost
I ripped it off
I held his hand
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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Smith  Avatar
September 25, 2026 at 1:33 PM
A stark, chilling piece: the ritualistic repetition of “I held” creates a controlled, almost forensic cadence, while the escalating body imagery turns tenderness into violation. The abrupt “I ripped it off” fractures that restraint beautifully, and the final return to “I held his hand” leaves a haunting sense of possession, grief, and unresolved horror.
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