Winter
The frost sets in deep in my bones
I feel it gnawing at my soul.
It tells me that each time the wind blows
I grow another day old.
But it's the cold that ages me most
In summer i was beautiful
And i would wear floral perfumes
when the wind didn't play with my hair.
But now i'm distorted in my mirror
Crushed by the weight of the rain outside.
The cold tumbles upon my head
and i cannot see the sky.
Copyright © Aimee Thomson | Year Posted 2015
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