chantel weston

(portland, Oregon)

Winter


a could winter wind
blows through the sad winter trees
a photograph of him looking back
floats down on the wind
the eyes in that picture are so pearcing
so painful to look at.

they tear me apart
shred by shred
as if i my self was a photograph
peices of me fall to the ground
as if i was a skitering leaf
fallin out of the tree and landed on the cold
ground that is his heart.

an abondoned house
sitting under the sad winter trees
not a single window was aglow
not a single curtian gave a twich
not a single foot tred in that home
and not a single soul survived.

there was no way
that i could survive that cold winter
he called love.

Submitted: Thursday, November 06, 2008

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  • Nanner Nibs (8/29/2009 7:44:00 PM)

    You speak of a cold, wintery, and blustery night. Just like the night I finally made sweet, braying love to Haley. You see, the problem with Haley was that she was a beautiful, strong, empowering equine (a horse that is) . Her braying noises throughout the night echoed against the abandoned barn's red walls. I feared that she would buck me. Anyway, your writing plucked my heart strings and flooded these memories back so strongly. I thank you deeply.
    Forever and cordially yours, Nanner Nibs. (Report) Reply

  • Tessa Monaghan (1/21/2009 12:03:00 AM)

    oh also, speaking of winter...we need to have our own plans for winter formal! haha =D

    ok im done

    MOO OOM AND RAWR! !

    SS (Report) Reply

  • Tessa Monaghan (1/21/2009 12:01:00 AM)

    yet another amazing poem! and that last line! 'theres no way i could survive that cold winter he calls love' perfect. sad. but perfect. it kind of reminds of a romance movie/naval the first part of ur poem desicriptive, and about the picture, its like the first scene of a move, or first page or two in a naval. its like WOW love it.

    RAWR! !
    moo and oom! !
    ~SS (Report) Reply

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