by Leah Claire
talking but nothing of value is heard.
speaking but still i can’t hear you.
with your towering walls of ice,
not even light can escape.
with pickaxe in hand,
I prepare to break you down.
I’m striving to ice break,
to drill a hole straight to your heart.
but after years of trying the same techniques,
I think I just start by smashing.
if my mallets don’t work,
i’ll use my words.
if my hands begin to bleed,
i’ll try a poem.
but I won’t stop until I find you.
it will be awkward and uncomfortable,
but we have to try.
because I’m done with stupid small talk.
done with pointless questions.
I’m hitting hard and I’m hitting fast.
so just wait for me.
and maybe try breathing on the walls.
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