my goofy poetry

I can feel your boney fingers ripple upon my spine

your other hand a firm grasp around my neck

with hair of silky white

your skin of pale, frostbitten blue

as I sit in the cold neglected

you comfort me

you’re comforting as my mother, and strong as wood

tearing down villages as if they’re thin tree branches

gripping my hands so tightly

I feel as if I’m losing blood

and cuffing your hands over my ears

and replacing the noise with white silence

I can feel myself wither

as your fingers grow tighter

my vision is going blurry

is this love?