The Fucking Ice Queen
Some days are better than others.
What is it that weighs on me?
What is it that pursues me and
won’t let me be satisfied,
or content. . .
you have been knocking at my door the last three days.
I don’t ask you in.
I never actually open the door,
but you are able to get in anyway–
through the keyhole, through the crack at the bottom,
like a winter wind come to chill me to the bone
and turn me into a fucking Ice Queen
who has no patience for the simple people
and their drivel
Be gone with you stupid peasants!!
Lest I turn you into ice statues!