Sterling Klein

07/16/2014

You stare at me

With your eyes of ice

Staring daggers into my soul.

Only, icicles melt away

And leave no fingerprints;

No evidence of who was there.

Is it wrong to feel this way

For someone once so close to me?

It has tainted any happy memories,

Memories of you and me.

Though I know it cannot be helped, 

I still feel the gaze of your icy eyes,

Sending chills down my spine.

But my warm hazel isn't enough to melt your ice,

So I hide from the cold and winter air.

I hide from the cold that invariably follows you.

And I've been hiding in my own igloo on the sun.

Enjoying the heat but not allowing myself to escape the cold.

That's the thing about parents. 

They can imprint well onto their children,

For although I hate the chilled air,

I cannot help acting cold.