Coldest Winter

By Peter Harris

The coldest winter you'll ever endure

Is the first one after they walk out the door.

You'll cry, you'll scream, you'll fall to the floor,

You'll break and you'll be a mess.

And the next few months will test

How long you can last in survival mode,

Blankets and pillows your only abode.

—

Fight or flight will disengage

And with it, the will to engage

With work and people and art.

You won't be able to help but fall apart.

It's colder now so light the tinder

Your chest remembering their warmth — that tender

Touch, that only they could deliver

—

When the day dies down, you're alone in bed,

"Lonely" the word that rings in your head.

That’s a cold front you fear every night,

Air so frozen it smothers the light.

You lie there silent, thoughts turning hollow,

Hot water bottle, pillow to follow.

But nothing you hold can soften the storm —

When you’re the reason the bed isn’t warm.

—

And still, you rise. Tomorrow calls

For masks and smiles and office halls.

But each night, the lonely comes again,

And you shiver beneath its frozen reign.

—

Like seasons shift, the cold will ease.

The nights grow short; you'll find some peace.

It might take six months, maybe twelve,

But spring waits for the self you shelve.

Sleep will soften, breath will slow.

Blankets will warm the skin you show.

And you'll admire the frost — the quiet, the pause,

The solitude wrapped in winter’s claws.

—

There’ll never be a colder year

Than the one they left — that’s clear.

But it was your first. And maybe your last.

Spring is calling. Winter has passed.

By Peter Harris