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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1660968
A girl who had lost hope for humanity, a boy who lost everything he loved..
Frozen Eyes

An innocently scarred girl
Stole off into the night
A sweater covering fresh wounds
Thread bare gloves for comfort
More then reprive from harsh winds
A mind of hard pressed determination
A face which hid her thoughts
A heartbroken soul who
Had finally had enough
Of the captor's damned abuse.
Winter ravaged all around
Exploring her nakedness with
Curious, frozen fingers..
Yet she pushed on, hatred
And fear putting light to her feet
And warming her senses
And that was enough for now.
She left with but a sentence:
Don't cry over me.

A boy who had lost all hope
Dissapeared into the night
He wore little, but cared as much
Faded blue jeans
Worn out tennis shoes
And a holed up flannel jacket
Over a grey t-shirt.
The wind chill was below zero
Yet the lost boy felt nothing
Eyes of porcelin
Far numbed emotions
And a heart of stone
He had lost too much to care
Lost everything he cared to love
That last emotion fled from him
With a final death.
He left his fate to chance
Alone in the icy storm
Nothing in particular
Good as suicide, a death
He simply deemed poetic-
Whether the earth
Or himself was colder.
He had blown his mother a kiss
- his elderly foster mother -
Yet a mother at that,
Trying to force tears
He whispered:
Don't cry over me.

The young couple crossed pathes
At the edge of forty second street
Betrothed in their despair-
A boy devoid of emotion
A girl without hope for humanity
They shared pathes for
The longest time in silence
Until the girl spoke
Her voice laden with fear
Towards this newcome stranger
So they shared stories.
Silence followed once again.
Neither said a word
Though they felt an awkward
Kinship towards one another -
One might go as far to say
That it was love at first sight -
Inspired by the provoking idea 
That someone else understood.
And with that notion
The boy grasped her hand -
It was dreadfully cold, after all.
The girl flashed a hesitant smile
Shocked at the tears in his eyes
Oblivious to her own.
The children walked on like that
Bearing tears of compassion..
They cried for one another
As they walked farther
And farther
Away.

They wandered aimlessly.
The days turned to weeks
The weeks turned to months
The months to years
The years counted five
And five spelled the end.
They slept in shelter's presence
Walked when there was none
Call them homeless
Call them broke
Call them uneducated
I called them complete.
It is extraordinary,
The power of love,
The couple had nothing
But lived as if
They had everything -
As far as I cared
We did.
They had emotion
They had hope
They had each other -
The world at
The tips of their fingers
They could go where ever
Could go when ever
Could be what ever
Could never last.

Today she turns seventeen
And the boy proposed
Down on his knees
Without a ring
Knelt in the snow
It soaked his tattered jeans
But he didn't mind, because
She said yes.
And unbeknownst to either
The day would be their last.

On that very night
A great blizzard fell
Slowly but surely
Onto the entire world
There was no shelter.
The girl started to shiver
And her face went slightly pale
So they stopped for the night
Camped under a bed of ferns
The aging, holey flannel jacket
As their only source of warmth.
Asleep in eachother's arms
Exhausted in the roaring night.

He awoke at half past nine
The snow had stopped
The sun was rising
The winds had quieted
It was bitterly cold
She was asleep.
Her breathing had stopped
Her chest was hardly rising
Her wheezing had quieted
She was bitterly cold.
Her face was pale
Her fingers impossibly white
Her heart barely beating
Silently clinging to life
But her grip was slipping.
The boy panicked
He touched her cheeks
She remained silent
He said her name
She didn't move
He cried to himself
The first time in a long time
He bent his head down
Placed his ear right on her heart
And barely heard her whisper:
I'm cold.

He picked her up
And walked along the road
Slowly but surely
Making his way to town -
Call it luck
Call it fate
An ambulance pulled up behind him
The sirens blaring
His heart skipped a beat
He turned around and waved
The driver scowled as
He swerved right past him.
So the boy walked
He walked and
He walked and
He walked
Until he stood at the hospital gates
He had made it
With a sigh of relief
It would be alright..
He sat down his one
And only love
To discover that
The doors were locked.
So he waited.

The grand clock ticks
At every hour, you see.
And today was no differant
It rang out loud and clear
Midnight
One, two, three
Four and five
Six.

It was six o' five
If you want to be exact
As the lead surgeon
Drove down the highway
Sipping on a coffee
Still waking up
Barely more then a kid himself.
Lazily he turned the last corner
Drove into the parking lot
As a sight met his eyes
And words escaped his mouth:
What the hell?
And then he drove closer
Cautiously
Slowly but surely
A sight met his eyes
And words escaped his mouth:
Oh my god.
The sight in front of him
Made the surgeon rub his eyes
Two kids laying down
In front of the doors
Older clothes
Homeless?
Upon closer inspection
The clothes were more like rags
A boy and a girl.
The first appeared to be crying
And the latter deathly pale.
He got out of the car
Dropped his coffee
Ran the rest of the way.

Six hours later.
The girl is in a hospital bed
Her clothes replaced with
Hospital garments
The boy refused new clothes
He sat outside her room
Shaking hands clasping
A single page from a
Worn out bible
He was crying.
The girl's eyes fluttered open
She looked about in fear
Taking in strange surroundings
An IV in her arm
Respirator on her mouth
She couldn't hardly move
New clothes?
And that was it for now
As exhaustion overcame
And she fell into a restless sleep
Shivering all along.

The doctor approached the boy
He wanted answers-
Teens just don't appear on doorsteps
In tattered clothes
With no apparent family
By their accent, though,
Seeming to be a long way from home.
A teenage boy doesn't
Just appear at your door
His cheeks streaked with tears
Standing in the rain
Holding an unconcious girl
Scars all over her arms
A once broken leg
Dying of pneumonia.
So the boy told him
Spilled his guts
And as much of hers
As he could bear to recall -
the doctor simply gasped
As if it's not enough
The vitals' alarm went off.

She awoke, careful
Not to move that fast
Didn't have much feeling
In her body
Didn't notice them until
A few minutes later
When her sight came into
A decent perspective
And saw a hand clasping hers.
Following the arm
Stood the face she had awoke to
Every morning for
As long as she cared to remember.
She tried to smile but
It took so much effort
Instead she whispered,
I'm dying, aren't I.
The boy broke out in tears
As he asked the surgeon
To leave them alone for awhile.

They didn't say much
She drifted in and
Out of conciousness.
His hands never stopped shaking.
The idea shocked him
How much more excrutiating
Mental pain
Happened to be.
He could deal with
All the bumps and bruises
Was in more then a few fights
But this new feeling
It cut right through
Each and every one
Of his final and last defenses.
This never subsiding pain
Such a numbing feeling
Never present but always there
Invisibility oh so bold.
Several hours went by like that
Until passed the fifth and last
She opened her eyes
If but for a second
Her lips moved, whispered
The boy leaned towards her
Straining to hear
It took all of a second
For him to comprehend
The truth behind such simple words:
I love you.
And the boy watched
His one and only love die.

Oddly, there were no tears.
He stared at her
For seemingly the longest time
Until he could take it no more
And closed her eyelids
Ever so delacitely
With his fore and middle finger
So dissapeaered
Her oh so frozen eyes.

He stepped out the window
As the doctor came back in
Confused to find him gone
The heart moniter was beeping
The girl wasn't breathing
With a lungful sigh
The doctor witnessed
A figure dissapear
Into the forever receeding horizon
And the raging winds whispered ;
Don't cry over me.

* * *

They had the funeral
About a week later
Buried her on Sentinel Hill
In a little grove between
A pair of maple trees
Overlooked by a crystal lake
It was a beautiful spot.

A small crowd had gathered
Mainly older folk with
Nothing better to do
But the surgeon was there as well.
He threw the first
Cleft if dirt onto
The wooden box acting
As her coffin, the nails
Kinda crooked and the boards
A little warped.
She was buried in
The hospital scrubs
No one would put much money
Towards the aid of
An unknown dead girl.
The surgeon tried but couldn't
Haunted at the thoughts
Of how an innocent, lovely girl
Could be draped in such scars
The autopsy showed
Any other, normal? Girl
Probably would have lived
Her immune system
Just wasn't quite right
But it didn't say quite how.

In her left hand
The surgeon had found a
Little wad of paper
With aging, barely legible
Type writer print,
It was years old and
As far has he could tell
It seemed to just quite read:
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
I'm sure and certain
In the hope of the
Ressurection into eternal life.
And in the right
A little piece of letter typed
Looked to be from a book
It simply read, 'till then'.

It started raining a few hours later
As the surgeon turned the corner
And walked to the door of
His two room apartment
A kitchen and their room
If you want to be exact.
A girl greted him in
The entrance, leening on the frame
She told him dinners ready
Followed by a short embrace
And they talked about
What the life held
In store for them today
Like they did everyday
Just something to wind
Down into the evening.
He kissed her on the cheek
And asked to be excused
It had been a dreadfully long day.
Falling asleep he had
A single thought on his mind
The strange couple
And what little
Of their stories he knew

* * *
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