The First Cold Morning

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Here what I tried to do was describe that empty feeling you get early in the morning when you wake up to go to work and it's cold outside and to juxtapose that with the same feeling of loneliness you get at the end of a messed up relationship.

Submitted: December 14, 2010

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Submitted: December 14, 2010

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This is done in the way that a summer’s sweat turns into a winter’s shiver without any warning.
 In the way that mindless animal passions and lust today can turn into apathy tomorrow. 
 Done in the way that a passing infatuation hardens solid into a granite hatred in one long night.
 Then there is the waking up.  Saying, “Oh it’s cold outside,” standing on your doorstep in the dark lonely morning with your teeth chattering, your hands shaking, nearly trembling.
 There is a sheet of ice covering the windshield at 6 a.m. and the driver’s door, all the doors in fact, are frozen shut and you’re bewildered while you contemplate the thought of how you’ll ever get inside again.
 Upon waking up you decide in an instant that it is to cold to be naked anymore. 
 To cold for taking a shower, and besides, it’s easier to wear today the clothes that you already wore yesterday, anyway.
 There is no gas left in the tank and the needle is on E. 
 It’s almost frozen in place there, completely in the red on this dark morning, just like the way a passing infatuation turns into something hard and permanent in one long night….
 
~Mike


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