Spring isn't Coming

It’s been a long winter      

She whispers softly          

She looks as though she hasn’t left that seat in months            

Her hand is clutching a nearly empty bottle          

As though it is the only thing grounding her here          

Her leg is bouncing uncontrollably            

As if her body is reminding her she can move    

The winters here are long          

And cold          

And harsh          

They take and they take and they take          

And they feel as though they will never end          

The snow keeps falling          

The wind keeps blowing            

The sun keeps hiding          

And she has been hibernating            

Wrapped up in sweaters and blankets          

Stockpiling bottles to warm her insides          

Barricading herself inside the house,          

Hiding from the storm            

Its been a long winter          

A little louder this time          

Her voice is brittle        

She raises her head            

Takes a sip of the liquid fire clutched in her hand          

If you look close enough you can see the tremors          

Her skin is pale, sickly almost          

Dark circles make her eyes appear sunken          

Her empty hand grips her still bouncing knee as though she has to physically stop it          

As though the action is involuntary          

As though it is not a part of her body          

The winters here are long          

They are brutal and painful          

They are debilitating            

And she is waiting, hopelessly, for this one to end            

For spring to be born            

So that she may have a few short months of reprieve            

Before it comes again          

It’s been too fucking long of a winter          

She’s yelling, crying, screaming        

Her voice echoing back at her            

The bottle is empty now as she shatters it against the wall          

Broken glass litters the floor          

She has left her seat          

And now she shakes, swaying, in the middle of the room          

Her chest heaves as she catches her breath          

The curtains are drawn shut, the house is a cave  

Silent, empty, dark        

And cold        

So fucking cold        

The winters here are long          

They are ruthless and cruel          

She grabs another bottle and settles back into her chair          

And pretends spring will come on its own