A Poem: Too Cool

Too Cool – 11/22


It may be in 40s outside
But that's warm to me,
It does no harm to me,
Because like Mr. West,
I'm living in the Coldest Winter
And there's an Icebox in my chest,
Through every rest,
It chills my spine,
Like a novel from R.L. Stine,
I walk around with Goosebumps
But there's no fear here, just sheer,
Sheer apathy,
Others walk around happily,
Kissing and hugging, loving and touching,
But I feel nothing,
A Robocop by Mr. West's standards
No more emotions, nor any romantic notions,
Just a body and a mind
Heartless, I've been this way for some time
Sometimes, people wonder how this happened,
For what reason does ice water run through my veins
I tell them all the same things,
That my heart was stolen, then broken,
And broken, I decided not to pick up the pieces
They were scattered, I was shattered,
Never had I felt such pain,
Never would I feel that way again,
I allowed the warmth of her love to open me up
And give her my heart,
Thinking I'd get her's in return, but I felt the burn,
Which I couldn't get over, and so I kept getting colder
Letting a cold hole build, the cold hole filled,
The void that was left,
The boy that was left, has become a cool young man
Chilled to the bone, chilling alone,
No longer feeling alone, for he has no feelings
Dealing with what was dealt,
Made him face the feelings that were felt,
And at that point all love was lost.
So now when young ladies ask to go out with me,
And wonder if they'll get played like a fool,
I simply reply no; I'm too cool.

-ATLthePoet