FirstSnow5

My blood, warm with bitter coffee.

My heart

Embracing the spine of a book,

As the words bleed with, 

The sound of rain, hitting the earthy mud. 

Melting into a blanket and a chair,

That have been indulged in

My warmth. I can only smile, for

Coffee, rain and books have provided

Me with more warmth than my mother's

Burning slap.

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So I've realised that I have never cried in my entire life, if most teared up and I feel like that it isnt healthy and a sign of poor mental health (im not sure tho). Even when people have died i didn't cry or sob, I was just sad and numb.

Maybe it's to do with mental health, thoughts?

A few years ago I read this book about a girl who programs and in the world she lives in there is a maze game made by someone called Daedalus. Now I remember that she basically programs cheats for the people who play the game (the players have a single life and the game uses their brain print so they cant play again). There was also something to do with Daedalus' son's character being the person she programs and that there is no way to win the game at the center on the maze.

I think the main character's name was Kate and I remember she had an abusive relationship with her boyfriend (don't hold me to this tho). Oh and the cover of the book was green.

As a child this really screwed over my m

Black butterflies greet my mind

As they bathe in callous inchor 

They hatch from smouldering books  

And blood which boils in winter.

​

I bid farewell to paper

And the sacred words tattooed 

For only a fool would not

Lament at updraft streams of 

black butterflies in winter

​

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2

"Why aren't you,

beautiful"

My family's

Words caress 

Me.

Too dark, too

Large, and

God forbid, too

Me.

And all I can

Manage is

"Sorry",

For I am a blizzard

Passing by;

Unafraid, unruly,

Unapologetic.

I am the eternal

Flame and

Winter's icy kiss.

I am the dust you walk on

And, the sun kissed

morning mist,

I am

Me.

​

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2

"You're so

Nice," they say,

And all I can

Do is smile.

Forged

In the embers of

An imploding star

And poured

Into diamond casts.

It was polished and

Hammered

By the suffocating darkness.

​

No-

My smile is a

Battle scar, one

Drawn from vast

Oceans of

Tears. And fire searing

Flesh which

Clotted blood.

It

Is the result

Of the gods'

Wrath and

Glimmering ichor.

It is the story, of 

My wounds.

​

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2

Waltzing through golden fields

I witnessed Mother's loom.

Where Time’s string is unreeled

As Death’s tapestry blooms.

​

With a heart-wrenching voice, she tells

Sung with red lips like a berry,

For mortals’ tears would swell,

Their heart heavy.

​

Although we go,

We return to

The golden fields.

Where our stories

Are etched with the

Thread of life

Live, colourful and free

In Death's tapestry

A sight no mortal has

Ever seen.

​

1.

[2.](https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/gy01e3/mad/ft9muem?utm_source=share&utm_medium=we