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A Poem

Art Video (via TikTok)



At the center of a frozen basin, I stand shivering in place. The bitter winds race around my bare torso and sting my exposed skin. My neck is snapped with protractor-like precision. Head facing downward at the solemn reflection peering through the splintered ice. Winter is howling, but I can not move from where I’ve settled. The ice beneath my feet is thin compared to the rigid walls surrounding us but thick enough to hold the weight of my mind. I bend down to meet its fogging glare and trace the fissures with my fingertips. The cracks are sharp. Their scarring is deep. More profound than what I see on the surface. Memories that will breach on unsuspecting footsteps like nautical hunters from forgotten folklore. There is no easy way back to shore where the safety of solid ground awaits. I am stranded in this backdrop devoid of growth for as long as I dwell on whether to move or stay. 

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