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You Must Have Frostbite
You.
With your frostbitten heart,
Telling my side like it’s yours
Crafting your stories like they’re fiction.
Spinning your web of lies while
I’m silent
Just like you wanted
Just as you urged me to remain.
Because you threatened me to lock my lips,
Seal them tight
And burn the wooden key
Made of this material solely for its flammability.
I hid the key.
I never burned it.
I wanted a chance
someday.
Not quite yet.
But someday
I’ll shed the chains
And then
I will speak.
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