It’s climbing a mountain
covered in ten feet of snow.
My muscles burn
through the frigidity,
through my clothes,
but I keep going
despite the fire building
in my lungs,
the weight of my body
clinging to each labored step.

Crevasses flower under my toes,
their itchy fingers
hungry to suck me in,
taste my fear as it falls,
trembling from aching lips
peeled back in echoes never made.

This is where I am–
arms flung back,
eyes pinned to the distant floor.
Every moment,
I am screaming
through the climb,
burying my feet in the cold,
all while plummeting
to my death.

This is how it feels to live.
This is how it feels to die.




6 thoughts on “Mortal

  1. Hey! As always, I absolutely loved the hell out of this poem. In fact, the word “crevasses” inspired me to write a poem about fiery, toxic love. I wanted to ask you if you’re cool with me posting it? If you feel that it’s infringing on your work then please let me know, I totally understand. I felt it only appropriate to ask you before posting, as without your poem, mine wouldn’t exist. Keep writing, you’re always amazing. Much love.

    Liked by 1 person

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