Frozen Pies

By: Isabelle Morgan

Winter isn’t kind

She forces us to listen

Or rather shuts us up

And blankets the pretend

The routine we have fallen victim

I have found myself 

In this involuntary locked position

And Winter fucking freezes

The inane voice we call tradition

Expectation and obligation look the same

In the snow 

Scattered in shattered pieces

Falling every couple paces

Winter makes it so damn cold

My laughs glow and fog up my vision

She bites me so shockingly hard

There isn’t a warm enough protection

To keep my cheeks from turning red

Rosey in awe at the ironic pointless 

Argumentative decisions

Winter levels them all

Neutral in negation

One of Winter’s many facets

To her mocking disposition

She watches us in the same

Tire spinning stranded position

This is all so fucking funny

She melts shame and 

Degrades self irritation

By freezing all motion 

So you stop and realize 

What you’ve actually been missing

What softens your knees

And hurts your stomach in 

relentless elating emotional tension

What a manipulative bitch

Winter, my least and favorite season

But she is just that

A hard nipple sensation

Both never lasting

Staying up only in fiction

So I fantasize in the bath

And smile at the rest

Because Winter controls us 

Fucking up is a new flake 

Driving blind and lanelessly in the

Freedom of no right direction