Dedicated to any girl who can still remember the scratchy sound of a blade on ice.


1. Silence

I pulled my jacket close,

trying to keep the heat in.

I tied back my hair,

and plucked at my gloves,

much like I'd done before.


Six months since I'd been here last,

but it's all the same.


I pulled the latch to the side,

letting the click ring through the empty room.

I remember that click.

Within the seconds it took,

stepping onto the ice,

the silence had been shattered.


The blades of my skates

along the ice,

the scratching sound,

brought me back.


Around six months ago,

I'd been here with him.

We'd been on a date,

and he insisted we go here

once he knew I'd taken classes.


In the time we dated,

we only came here.

I was tired of it,

so one day,

I told him.


He said he felt the same way.

So, I suggested something else.

That wasn't what he meant.

So that day after school,

I came here.


Six months.


I pulled my jacket close,

pulled my hair back,

and played with my gloves,

much like five minutes ago.


I glided along the ice once more,

letting the harsh air

brush my cheeks

as I sped along,

throwing in tricks and turns.

Much like six months ago.


I'd attempted things

I wouldn't have today,

Six months ago,

landing every leap with courage,

with pride,

with freedom.


But the last that I tried,

I fell.

I hadn't landed,

I flailed.

I hadn't gotten over him.

I only fell deeper.

And it hurt.


If it weren't for Mr. Zamboni man

I'd have layed there,

Frozen and



This time wasn't much different,

from the last.

The only difference?

Mr. Zamboni man wasn't there,

to save me.


So here I lay,


and dead in




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