The way that the ice feels

When you pour it over my head

Makes me feel like I’m new

And refreshed.

I hate the way the fridge makes sounds

That disrupt my sleep.

And I hate the way the ice hits my tooth

And sends shivers down my spine.

The way the ice feels

After minutes in my hand.

The way it makes me go numb

And I feel nothing

And void and gone yet fine.

I hate it when the ice is out.

I love it when it’s here.

I miss the ice terribly.

I want to stomp the snow on the ground

Until it’s nothing but dust on my shoe.

And slam my shoes onto the carpet

Before I run back up to my room.

But, oh, how I miss the frost.

And how I miss when it was snowing.

I want it back.

Or maybe I want the rest back.