One intentional STOMP

A spurred boot slamming onto an iced-over lake

Sadness breaks through me

the cracks begin slowly

reaching their jagged, frozen fingers through my skin

they quicken

Frigid waters rising

I hear a whisper somewhere

Don’t fall in

Don’t fall in

Those waters aren’t meant for swimming

30 seconds til hypothermia sets in

But then, a different voice speaks:

There is no danger here

I reassure The Whisperer

I am the lake.

And The Thing breaking through me

Is only

Letting Life in