[Poetry] A Chandelier of Ice

If I hang from a chandelier of ice,
Will the cold seep into my bloodstream first,
Like the harbinger of a frozen curse?

Or will the oxygen that escapes
In panicked gasps through faint blue lips,
Be the harbinger of my life’s eclipse?

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[Poetry] The Choice

On the bathroom floor,
Glass shard in hand,
It catches the light,
Is this the end?

And the tears, they
Bounce off the glass.
Shutting my eyes, I’ll
Just make this fast.