bare bones

the winter so cold your bones feel like rods of ice ready to crack.

no more fields lit up with green electric sparks that you try to catch & wear them in your hair, the fireflies are dead.

no more sugar sweet sunshine-y days soaking in natural warmth, drinking lemonade, donning sunglasses & a tan.

no more bonfires, wearing a hoodie to fend the weak evening chill, where peoples faces dance in the flickering, spooky, light, luke warm beers clutched in hand, & cameras in the other. midnights followed by adventures in the comfortable air with the windows down, music loud, & mini skirts riding higher than they should.

now big, cold, sparkling glass windows revervberate with drum beats from indoor havens. hidden in layers, skin barely touches, hugs seem impersonal in down, wool, & gortex. 67843278943 pairs of uggs (UGGHHHs / ugglies ) shadow the sun.

this stupid season is a weird, cold, power machine. closes me like a fortress & nothing can open it. its a physical sensation in my chest. a hardening & heaviness, wood planks & metal locks. it frightens me more than anything anyone has ever done to me.

I'm a girl with a mind like a miniature movie theater, & the winters always dark & lonely.

I hate it.