Have you ever seen eyes crystallized? Cracked eyelids and cracked lips turning pink as whispers litter the blizzard wind. It was the type of weather that made you think of Christmas, but Groundhog Day was around the corner. And I never knew how to dress for the weather. My cherry red scarf, meant to match my lipstick, let snowflakes kiss my neck. They reminded me of you.
I remember the last outfit you saw me in. The blue flowy shirt and checkered skirt on a fall day that felt more like summer. I'm always in a different season but I always know the phase of the moon. And the eclipse I sat under turned a blizzard into dusting, and I breathed it in deeply. I smoke better when my lungs are cold. Twenty years old and what to show for it? Other than crystallized eyes and a cherry red scarf that was always needing to dry but I couldn't stay inside long enough to clean it. It was the only place you hadn't infiltrated. My past life contextualized under the eyes you watched me with, green and lively, should've fit perfectly with me. But I never wanted only one pair of eyes on me. Wanting a bigger life, I fell through the feminist pipeline that housewives sacrificed their passion to help someone else breath air. And I wasn't going to be another Hemmingway whose hands were best known for baking bread. But then you were there, and it didn't matter where I went.
Twenty years old and nothing to show for it but extra-long lashes that always seemed to fall off. My friends were jealous that I cried "pretty tears", but they still stung when they fell. But that night, they froze over like the pond in front of me, and I like to think they reflected your green eyes.
Heartbreak in the winter is more precious than heartbreak in the spring. There are no blooming roses to reflect the glasses you still can't take off. I'm surrounded by white and blue, a personified love ache that people sled in. You actually feel the cold when you're alone. I sat by it knowing how quickly I almost threw it all away to be in your safe havens of summer getaways. I chased your dreams hoping mine would come along eventually. But I had you.
I had your arms wrapped around me, making me too hot under the summer sun, making our bodies sticky. Your cooling breath that sent shivers down my spine, shivers I still feel now. I remember the white linen that I constantly kicked off because if I was uncovered, I could hold you. Every action I took just to have you, hold you, love you. I sacrificed my own emotions to keep you fulfilled, staying sweaty and abandoned for you kisses that the snowflakes mock me with now. The sweat and tears rolled off me onto your chest when your arms wrapped around me. I was raised and lowered with your lungs, expanding more each time you hurt me. I was quiet when I loved you the most. Suddenly, my dreams were on the back burner because we were too young to plan as you said. Yet had me agreeing to stay at home with our four kids one day. Baking bread for our dates in my room where you kissed my stomach, and I wonder now if that's all you wanted from me. But if that's all it was, why did you follow me into the sun? Told me you'd follow me anywhere, even into the cold. And your promises put me to sleep in your arms and your love awakened me like the snow. Now I sit still with could lungs, trying desperately no to reach for you. Because my crystallized eyes cannot see you in the rose I painted you in before. Were our lives even real if we were living in the ideal?
I breathe out the smoke one last time and see myself in my blue flowy shirt and checkered skirt dancing in the dusting. The snowflakes sticking to the sleeves and my hair as I begged on the ground for you to stay. I feel my heart slowing as I see my pain freeze above the pond, my lungs finally expanding. My hands learning how to hold something again as I take off my gloves and reach out for myself. I pretend that the cold touch doesn't make me miss you more as I breathe back in my smoke. Swallow the dusting and let my lungs freeze under my cherry red scarf. And my cherry red lips turned a forever pink that I use to speak now. Years later I still think back to the night when I decided life was not a thing I was concerned with. And I realize I've never taken off that outfit as I pull on my blue sweater. It's oversized now, I can't find it in me to fold knitwear. I pretend I'm unchanged so when you come back, I can say it's not a choice. It's the love of my life.
I remember the last outfit you saw me in. The blue flowy shirt and checkered skirt on a fall day that felt more like summer. I'm always in a different season but I always know the phase of the moon. And the eclipse I sat under turned a blizzard into dusting, and I breathed it in deeply. I smoke better when my lungs are cold. Twenty years old and what to show for it? Other than crystallized eyes and a cherry red scarf that was always needing to dry but I couldn't stay inside long enough to clean it. It was the only place you hadn't infiltrated. My past life contextualized under the eyes you watched me with, green and lively, should've fit perfectly with me. But I never wanted only one pair of eyes on me. Wanting a bigger life, I fell through the feminist pipeline that housewives sacrificed their passion to help someone else breath air. And I wasn't going to be another Hemmingway whose hands were best known for baking bread. But then you were there, and it didn't matter where I went.
Twenty years old and nothing to show for it but extra-long lashes that always seemed to fall off. My friends were jealous that I cried "pretty tears", but they still stung when they fell. But that night, they froze over like the pond in front of me, and I like to think they reflected your green eyes.
Heartbreak in the winter is more precious than heartbreak in the spring. There are no blooming roses to reflect the glasses you still can't take off. I'm surrounded by white and blue, a personified love ache that people sled in. You actually feel the cold when you're alone. I sat by it knowing how quickly I almost threw it all away to be in your safe havens of summer getaways. I chased your dreams hoping mine would come along eventually. But I had you.
I had your arms wrapped around me, making me too hot under the summer sun, making our bodies sticky. Your cooling breath that sent shivers down my spine, shivers I still feel now. I remember the white linen that I constantly kicked off because if I was uncovered, I could hold you. Every action I took just to have you, hold you, love you. I sacrificed my own emotions to keep you fulfilled, staying sweaty and abandoned for you kisses that the snowflakes mock me with now. The sweat and tears rolled off me onto your chest when your arms wrapped around me. I was raised and lowered with your lungs, expanding more each time you hurt me. I was quiet when I loved you the most. Suddenly, my dreams were on the back burner because we were too young to plan as you said. Yet had me agreeing to stay at home with our four kids one day. Baking bread for our dates in my room where you kissed my stomach, and I wonder now if that's all you wanted from me. But if that's all it was, why did you follow me into the sun? Told me you'd follow me anywhere, even into the cold. And your promises put me to sleep in your arms and your love awakened me like the snow. Now I sit still with could lungs, trying desperately no to reach for you. Because my crystallized eyes cannot see you in the rose I painted you in before. Were our lives even real if we were living in the ideal?
I breathe out the smoke one last time and see myself in my blue flowy shirt and checkered skirt dancing in the dusting. The snowflakes sticking to the sleeves and my hair as I begged on the ground for you to stay. I feel my heart slowing as I see my pain freeze above the pond, my lungs finally expanding. My hands learning how to hold something again as I take off my gloves and reach out for myself. I pretend that the cold touch doesn't make me miss you more as I breathe back in my smoke. Swallow the dusting and let my lungs freeze under my cherry red scarf. And my cherry red lips turned a forever pink that I use to speak now. Years later I still think back to the night when I decided life was not a thing I was concerned with. And I realize I've never taken off that outfit as I pull on my blue sweater. It's oversized now, I can't find it in me to fold knitwear. I pretend I'm unchanged so when you come back, I can say it's not a choice. It's the love of my life.
