Jackets in the summer.

As her icy heart defrosts, 

you see it ice back up.

Like a hand recoiling to your touch.

Things are so much easier when there are no walls.

To melt the ice that dwells within,

that was the goal.

But the cold icicles are dug in too deep like nails in wood,

Not ready to let go.

People are closer in the winter because they are all afraid of being in the cold alone.

None of them know what it's like to be so used to the cold that you can't feel your finger tips.

WHen everything becomes numb and everyone else gets to the brink of the ice.

Then for a beat, everyone feels the same.

They still have each other and it's fine.

But somewhere deep down, a little sliver of ice makes its home before 

summer sweeps it away.

But once the thawing dew of spring forms, and everything sticks,

the sliver of silver ice is gone for them. 

But for other people,

There's that block of impenetrable ice that forms and stays.

They all look like they're fine, but no one tries to look any closer.

At the tiny scars or the surface tension that serves as the threshold of pain,

holding it all back.

But after throwing it all back, 

it all finds a way to re-surface.

The little snow-flakes in the eyes mean more than when they appear. 

They are a bit of the melted water that never comes back up after a long freeze.

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.