My fingers won’t move.

They are stiff with frost,

Tips turning blue and then deathly purple.

Threatening to rip them from

My flesh they were sown into by my creator.

Icicles hang from my eyelashes,

Each painful sweep of the eye

Has them digging deeper into my mind

Piercing the soft goo of my cornea

So that I am blinded by

This whiteout.

Your words are like the ice

That has flung itself over my heart

In a blanket of pseudo warmth.

You smile but it does not reach your eyes.

Your eyes spiral with the pitch

Cold black that spirals in your blood

And heart.

You plunge yourself into iceberg waters

Just to feel warm again.

I hope you stay there.

I hope you choke on the water as it freezes

In your throat.

I hope you open your eyes in that clear water

And realize that you are drowning in

The very ice that you decided to saw

Into me.