Damp White Fur

Silent tears falling, sliding, gliding down my cheek. A short little trail that evaporates as soon as it’s created. Tear, mixed with white. Holding onto, grasping my sanity. Rage. And a tinier feeling yet, sorrow. I did nothing wrong. My rage evaporating as quick as my trail. But the white soft fur remains damp. My emotions linger on him. I get up. Clean up his mistake. Let the bite of the cold seep into my bones. I welcome the ache, anything to forget the rage. To go on loving all that I have. Damp white fur. Dark brown eyes.

By, Amira

Frostbite

The warm candle light
that reaches my delight
tears me from the scenes I see,
pulls me through the bars and sets me free.
The flames lick my skin in ecasty
and turns me to charcoal, the fire that torchures me.
Everything is nice at first sight
but, remember, everthing will soon bite.

Poem by Amira