top of page

Frost Bite

Updated: Nov 15, 2021

She was an icy cunt.

The coldest young lady I had ever met.

Too cold for her age.

Her blue eyes, white hair, and pale skin was winter and ice.

Her soul was the same.

She was a bitch.

An icy cunt.

She broke me.

And kept breaking me over and over again.

She was rude to everyone.

Had opinions about everything.

And she was loud.

Loud and cold.

She was a loud, cold and sarcastic bitch.

She had a foul mouth,

And a short fuse.

She was the shiver that runs down spines.

She was the goosebumps on cold skin.

She had a white husky.

Seemed fitting for her.

Her dog was a sweetheart.

She wasn't.

This dog was the only thing she hadn’t driven away yet.

That's the great thing about dogs.

you could be an icy cunt,

And they would still love you.

She drove me away

And I loved her.

Why did I love her?

I ask the question because I have no answer.

Why did I love her?

Maybe I’ll never know.

She had a heart colder than snow.

You knew she was a bitch by the way she dressed

Skirts, boots, half tees and a choker.

Who the fuck still wore chokers?

She did.

She was a throwback person.

From a different time.

The older days when people were cruel in a blunt way.

Not the passive aggressive way they are now.

She taught me about Bukowski.

She taught me about music.

Real music.

She practiced pole dancing in her garage.

She wasn’t as good as she thought.

She wasn’t as beautiful as she thought.

I did like it when she would dance in her kitchen with a hula hoop though

But she was still an icy cunt,

And she knew it.

She took pride in it.

Maybe she experienced joy in breaking men?

I had heard I wasn’t the only one who was broken by her.

For some reason that made me feel worse.

I felt bad for the other suckers.

Couldn’t they see she was an icy cunt?

Why did they fall for her anyways?

Why had we all?

I hate her now

And I still love her.

The love and the hate mixed together like whiskey and coke.

A perfect drink of poison and sugar.

I hated myself for loving her

And I couldn't stop.

I wish I could,

But instead,

I keep writing my shitty writings about her.

13 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

History Mystery Fee fi fo fum The illusions The delusions The jifity jam, man This life This kite It’s in the wind The mind The man The person within The games we play Just to pretend The end The end

I keep looking to the opening door, hoping to see you walk in. It’d be a miracle if you did. Its an impulse- an instinct. Something rooted in my subconscious. A parasite that lives rent free in there.

A civil war in Canada? I thought they were the kind ones, with good healthcare? A civil war in America? Maybe a devorce would be better… Something has to change, A war in Ukraine?? Against Russia?? Oy

Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page