Frostbite

She's bitingly cold,
Her story's age-old,
She's got my heart,
In a vice-like hold.

She's icy and true,
Enticing too,
But she won't have me,
She'd rather have you.

She's like a blanket,
Of soft white snow,
Endlessly chilling
Me to the bone.

She's like the wind on
A harsh winter's day,
Leaving me breathless,
With nothing to say.

Her thoughts, like snowflakes,
Each so unique,
Like they were sent from
Olympus's peak.

She is the reason
That I still shiver,
When I look down at
That cold old river.

She is the anchor,
And she is my chain,
She is my labor,
And she is my pain.

Her rejection, the surface
Of incoming water,
The bridge, her love,
My leap, my slaughter.