Frigid
Alexander S. Peak


In a cold world, I’m living.
The cool sunlight sends it’s frozen beams.
With my hands in folds of fabric, I try to grasp reality and feeling.
Frigid.

In a cold church, I’m praying.
The little candles give me no warmth.
With only my clothes for comfort, I can only think of one thing.
Frigid.

In a cold home, I’m dwelling.
The lifeless bed allows me to freeze.
With my coat tugged tightly around me, I’m forced to struggle against the cold.
Frigid.

In a cold world, I’m…fine.
Things will be better in five months.
Yeah.


Circa 2001 by Alexander S. Peak