The Winter Poem by Briana Benner

In the stillness of winter, these walls are throbbing;
their merciless echoes travel through my ears, their cold dancing across my skin.
Frost curls in the air;
ice dances on windowpanes;
and here we are still;
frozen, unmoving, unbound but not free...
We are liars.
We are lying.
We promised; we vowed in summer that we would never stop;
we would go on and move forward and be beautiful;
but here we lie, the house creaking and crying with despair,
as winter curls around us so sharply.
Shards of ice dig into our skin as we lie to ourselves, lie to each other;
we are dust.
Ash and dust- free things;
dead and silent; but still we are imprisoned here.
Chained;
bound so ungracefully to our lies and our deception.
So here we lie in winter, our bones turning to ice;
our skin glittering with snow;
our eyes blinded with frost;
for there is no winter colder than the one we have made of lies.