The cold air whipping around the room freezes me
My breath appears and hangs in the air
Like icicles from a roof in the dead of winter
I cling to your warmth
Your soft voice coos in the morning
I feel your hot breath on my neck
“My sweet Rose,
How can you love me so?”
“I do not know.
I only know this
Your soft kiss
Your sweet eyes
Cannot tell me lies
I can see it in your soul
That you love me
And that makes me love you evermore.”
About the Creator
Belle Simkins
I write poems and small stories that reflect my life and the past event of it. I also love to paint and draw with my puppy when I am free from the chaotic mess of life.
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"You can't send me!" "There is no-one else. It's you or no-one, and that is not an option." Ameera looked at the fat paunch and florid face of her boss, a man who lived for the story and the kudos it brought him but who rarely gave consideration to the people behind the drama. When had he become so hard? She reckoned that by the end of the year, he'd be dead, collapsed from a heart attack and she struggled to conjure any sympathy in that moment and instantly felt ashamed at displaying the same lack of compassion that he had.
By Rachel Deeming7 days ago in Fiction
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