Chilled to the Heart
by Lily Henning
Cold, dry hands.
The sandpaper feeling,
Sending tingles down to my toes.
There’s such a chill,
My whole body tenses and freezes.
My hands turn purple.
No warmth of blood is being let through.
I shake,
I tremble.
My writing becomes sloppy.
The cold feeling creeps up my arms,
All the way to my heart.
And all the warmth seeps out of my body,
The chill makes me violently shake,
And the lit candle I knock over,
burns my love letter to ashes.
And I make no move to stop it.
The sandpaper feeling,
Sending tingles down to my toes.
There’s such a chill,
My whole body tenses and freezes.
My hands turn purple.
No warmth of blood is being let through.
I shake,
I tremble.
My writing becomes sloppy.
The cold feeling creeps up my arms,
All the way to my heart.
And all the warmth seeps out of my body,
The chill makes me violently shake,
And the lit candle I knock over,
burns my love letter to ashes.
And I make no move to stop it.
Lily Henning is a writer from Chester County, Pennsylvania. Her writings contain darker themes, are full of emotion, and include descriptive imagery to immerse the reader. Lily spends her free time reading dystopian/fantasy novels and shooting archery.