Sub-Zero Summer

The Way it Goes

My protoplasmic shell sits warm in the Summer sun,

while my soul lies trapped in the frozen tundra.

The two cannot coexist, without negating creation;

resulting in, psychological frustration.

An impasse in the innards of a ruined soul,

between warring generals of Good and Evil.  

Time will not heal, nor will the Summer sun loosen their grasp.

Instead I remind myself of the days we spent together.

Remembering the good, the bad, and everything between.

A tickle of warmth, to break the firing line, a brief reprieve.

Living like a slave to buried memories.

We shined like the brightest stars

even on the darkest of nights.

Yet we never knew when to give up a fight.

I guess this is where I find the light,

or recess into the shadow-less night. 

love… will I ever get you right?

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