Ice

Arctic Agoraphobia

Go to a happy place,
shut off all thoughts,
ice crystals shredding any nerves
that dare to feel warmth.

Squeeze out a hard-earned tear,
and loath it - as
it crawls its way back to the eye,
freezing it open.

Can only watch on now,
as three fingers
freeze up one by one, and in turn
drop off to the ground.

All screeching is futile,
no-one can hear,
but by giving it one last shot -
vocal chords snap off.

Like a newborn baby,
senses are gone.
Previous will to stay alive:
frozen, like the soul.

Oli Hepworth