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​East Fork:

A Journal of the Arts​​


Winter
by Kyrie Siepel

Winter

Loneliness sank Her claws into my sternum
She asked why I cried when she tightened her grip
“It hurts.”
She only smiled, sweet and passive.
Insecurity grabbed my arms with His frozen fingers and told me
“You won’t find anyone as warm as me.”
Anxiety tangled his fingers in my hair like a lover.
I asked him to be gentle. He yanked and pulled anyway.
“Try and find someone who will love you like I do.”
And then She came. With her gray eyes and numbing touch.
They told me She would pass. They told me She was a phase.
But every winter she crawls into bed with me, curls her hands around my waist,
Faces me in the morning.
“Stay with me,” she murmurs, voice gentle.

And every morning, it gets harder and harder to say no.