Cold the Whole World Over

(Pre-Script: This poem best read as the song, ""The Chain," #23 on the playlist, plays in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...)(...still waiting...)

I no longer want to be the girl
who sabotaged her former self
to sell a painting to a man in Times Square
for 32 cents and a bagel.
I no longer want to be the girl
who looked at the pretty things all around her
and drew a line through the middle of them
with her permanent black marker

one week before the antique dealer

was about to make her an offer
she could or couldn't refuse;

it would have been her choice.
I no longer want to be the girl

who ate her way to the North Pole

only to find that it wasn't a land mass,

and nothing grew there,

it was just the frozen form

of ocean no longer waving
no longer roaring

just cold just deep old cold
the whole world over.

-XOXO,