Hail
that pelts
against my defences,
with cold fury
you collect it in your fists
and fling it at me
in accusal.
Ice
in your eyes.

It melts
as it slams
this shelter of warmth,
these bricks I have built
around myself.
Yet still
it trickles
down my spine.

You are blindfolded
by your bitter judgements,
your acid critiques;
corrosive.
You can't see
what I see.

I start to shiver.

I am so sick
of this winter
between us.
Ill from pretence,
tired of deceit.
Lies, lies, lies
break.

We break
too.