A Chill

A chill runs down my spine.
Or is it the whisperings of a soul of ice and rain?
Like the spectral shadows cast by the moon,
Real and visible, yet shallow and haunting.
Or is it more like a star, flickering in the quiet distance,
Burning with the light of a thousand failed wishes?
I tell myself it’s just a chill, nothing more,
As I stare into the mirror’s reflective eyes.
How distant they look, as if someone deep
Within them were drowning…
Maybe someone was, as horridly wonderful
Memories flooded through his mind.
Memories like silk and steel, chipping away at his
Heart, bit by bit. Not with malice or spite,
But with the delicate destruction of love,
Until nothing remains, but a chill.

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