I'm SorryIt is cold in here. My fingers grow colder as they taper to points. Purple veins visible through my skin. My neck is chilled and prickles up through my hair, the beginnings of a shiver. I cross my arms in front of my chest trying to keep everything in.Will she be angry with me today? As she comes around to me will she be expecting my shake of the head? my sidewards glance? Will she sigh and move on? or will there be a flash of anger in those kind eyes?I wonder.I shiver.My life has lost all vigor. There is little left but resignation and disappointment. It is all in myself. I have failed.My brain, has it gone sightseeing? Lost in some deep, midnight cavern?My chest trembles; quick heartbeats faint.She travels down the rows of desks, ever closer. The trembling never stops and my heart chills, ice beneath the place where my under-wire meets my chest.She was angry.
Morning WalkThrough thin solesEach stone upon the laneGreets my lumbering stepsEach angular lump clamoursFor the attention of a tired mindThey boast their sizeTheir jagged edgesEach greater than the lastAs grunts of pain escape from burning lipsFragments turn to best advantageSparkling in my heavy eye
Waiting for HerSharp air scrapes its frozen bladesAcross my lungs and pricks at my noseThe thick coat hanging off my tense shouldersFights to keep icy breath off my neckFrom raising hairs like soldiers to battleHands numbed by stabbing coldCower under cover ofThin strips of coarse drafty cloth