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I Messed Up



Left out in the frozen frost,
Standing lonely, listful, and lost,
I feel I’m in way over my head,
Different from what I’ve said.
In my mind, I’m dying,
I’m lying and feel like crying,
This isn’t who I am,
I’m not used to being the lamb.

To walk to the sun,
To walk until I run,
Would be my own death,
Would expel my last breath.
Now I’m part of the ice,
I’m cut away, slice by slice
From the world of my own choosing,
There’s to be no more perusing.

Looking at the cold,
My soul is sold,
Its crystalline beauty took me in
And held me with arms of sin,
Holding me, caring for me,
Loving me: they adore me,
An outcast who found a place
A line finally leaving a trace.

For ice to meet light,
To bring about the end of this night,
I have to change,
We’ll all have to rearrange.
The chill is breaking me,
And it’s not too late to see,
That it’s all going to be okay
And I can still stay.
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Submitted on May 01, 2011

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Kassandra M. Konecny Claim this poet

Kassandra Konecny is a lover of listening to music, hiking in the mountains, and observing the way people act. She began writing vigorously when she was fourteen and will hopefully never stop. She has had her fair share of trials lately, and tries to encompass nearly every subject there is to study into her writing. Kassandra plans to study creative writing and psychology. She's 17 and currently lives in Utah with her family. Contact her at kassandrakonecny@hotmail.com more…

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