my heart
a block of sculptured ice
buried deep behind
steel ribs
hung with icicles
offering dagger-sharp protection

an arctic palace
of empty chambers
where glacial winds
flash freeze unwanted feelings
blow them deep into dungeons
blood is crystallized
in frozen nitrogen veins
heartbeat slowed
like a wound down pocket watch

my dreams
haunted nightly
by my dead
again and again
they appear
bright-cheeked
vibrant
unaware. . .
or perhaps unconcerned. . .
by their fates

they murmur
that I am the ghost here
rendered translucent
thin
insubstantial
from years of suppressed grief

they whisper in my ear
remove the splinter
from thine eye
that blinds me
to myself
these truths
it is time
they say
to examine the shape
the sharpness
of my grief. . .
spring thaw
is long, long overdue

© 2018 Revised 2020 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

Originally published by the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective