by Jabrie Johnson
even if I knew what I know,
I don’t think that would have stopped me.
the oven of my heart wishes to bake you to perfection,
perhaps it’s my fault for getting Burned.
but it’s hard to prevent hypothermia,
when there’s no Insulation in my mind.
to compare your eyes to the ocean is Cruel
for the ocean apologizes, unable to Control when she kills.
a snow queen like you
gliding my pawn body across the board.
you make me want to lay my face on the stove
and Boil my brain
into a thick mushy soup
why do I feel like I’m Burning if I can see my breath?
perhaps it’s because you have me tied to a wooden stake,
telling everyone that I am the Witch that needs to be cleansed of my Sins.
your eyes are more glacial than Uranus, numbing me into Forever sleep.
I am Hot headed, but you…
you are just Icy.
how convenient your timing was to be closest to Me when I had already fallen.
I never knew you could still descend after you have already hit rock bottom,
but you dug a deeper hole for me to lay.
how kind, I guess, to dig the grave for me.
I’d argue it’s the least you could do when you tried so hard to kill me.
washed your hands of the blood but leave Footsteps in your snow.
you thought you extinguished my flames, but a Fire can burn in the artic.
my blue lips thaw
enough to return Hatred back to sender.
perhaps you need the cold to survive, Frosty, ever threatened by my warmth.
but I won’t stoop to your level and Melt you down,
instead I’ll wait and watch as you burn yourself from your cryogenic gaze.
About the Author
Jabrie Johnson is a Creative student at SUNY Finger Lakes Community College. She currently interns at BOA Editions LTD for the Fall Semester. She’s on her final semester and is set to graduate with her creative writing degree.