Sta.sh
She yearned for warmth,
the soul she had lost,
stolen by a lovely ice wraith,
called Jack Frost.
Life without
kept Michaela numb,
her feelings dulled,
her passions gone.
She followed the trail of
blue-lipped dead girls,
passively desperate
to end her ordeal.
The wraith's latest victim
young, just like the rest
brought Michaela to Bridgewater
in the Midwest.
Winter was strong in that small town.
She observed little attraction,
until a stranger stopped walking
convinced she was crazed, but still full of compassion.
He invited her inside
without a single misgiving,
unafraid of this chilled girl,
frozen but living
She accepted the coffee.
He gave her his coat.
Some forgotten emotion
got caught in her throat.
Her iciness fractured,
but she wasn't free yet.
She still had to stop
The cold creature she'd met.
Jack Frost found her first,
dared to take hold of her hand
and kiss her pale cheek,
never expecting she'd make her stand.
From deep inside the monster,
she wrenched
that which it'd taken
and winter entrenched.
The ice wraith fell to its knees,
dying then still,
ice on its face,
where tears tried to spill.
Michaela returned to the stranger,
and never forgot
the treasure of warmth,
that thing Jack Frost sought.
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