Icicles

When I speak about myself, I'm referring to the empty spaces around everything that's named within me. It's only fair to be the parts of my body that are unidentified for me to be something identifiable. This might not make sense, it is late and I have been up for a while now. As it gets darker and colder outside, I can't help but remember all the times it got too dark and cold in those unidentified spaces I call myself. Bad memories to me, are freezing cold icicles that gradually find a place in me. There are a few of them hanging.

I try to melt the freezing icicles with hot dark black coffee, the darker the better. I follow it with lots of sugar, to give me enough energy to keep me moving, and after a while, it helps the icicles to melt. I walk, I run, I read, I write. I try to melt the icicles, not break them, because that will break me. I try not to sleep, because that's how icicles become stronger. Eventually I get tired and fall asleep, that's when the icicles manifest into horrible dreams, making it impossible not to wake up. And the cycle continues..