Done

You hung yourself up

Like a dress on a hanger,

A shattered chandelier

In a dark, dirty corner of

A splintered old tool shed.

A rusty bolt,

A deflated balloon,

A disposable pen,

You were done.

Held hostage by

A wasted body,

A waning mind,

You were

A rag doll

That lost its stuffing,

Dangling in defeat,

Motionless and mute,

You were done.

Icicles

Your frozen heart will thaw
With the coming of spring
But I will suffer through summer,
Yearning for the wintry chill
That is company to
an icy void within.

Hanging rigid,
You are a lethal weapon.
Glacial.
You favor frigid air.
I, too, hang frozen,
But desire the heat.

Torn between
your biting needs
And the lure
of changing seasons,
We drop, finally
Detached.