reflectionsofanicequeen
reflections.of.an.
ice.queen.
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IDV Analyses, Theories, and Other Nonsense
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Villainous Aesthetics
They called her Medusa yet they didn't know her reasons for turning flesh into stone. Once a little girl without a care, a tortured childhood left her snakes for hair and a granite stare.
A poison apple glistening with shine counting down on fates time. Her jealousy made her do awful things. Where she once had beauty now its absence stings.
Turning into a dragon was the only way to hide the pain and misery away. Her deviled horns and talon hooks clashed with spellbound books and daggered looks.
Villains, they say, have a story, yet the princesses take all the glory.
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Mermaids and Sirens
The old sailors say that mermaids are born when someone with a great love of the sea dies.
But beware their whisper,
For sometimes mermaids are sirens in disguise, who were born from violent, watery deaths at the hands of men.
They sing for the sailors and pull them down, to drown, never to be seen again.
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Screw your sunshine, Give me thunder
Rainy days are for. . .
The writers
The poets
The illusionists
Who paint with watercolors, beating down on double paned windows, dripping from tin roofed gutters.
Rainy days are for. . .
Healing from aching bones and damaged hearts,
Trying to give back the parts washed away in the madness
Of an overly sunny day.
Rainy days are for. . .
The dreamers
The thinkers
The doers,
Who would rather drink from the skull of their enemies, than sit disenchanted another day.
Rainy days are for. . .
The pessimists,
Who even in the dreary night, mold their dreams into reality.
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“Even Miracles Take a Little Time”
Accidentally she let herself fall from the
Barricade she had built upon a
Castle of stone when she
Decided to take his hand, only to realize that
Ergonomically they
Fit and not all villains need a fairy
Godmother to find their prince.
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Anatomy
Actually, never was my favorite subject until I traced the
Barren landscape of your waist
Concave between my fingers
Desperately calling for my
Embrace,
Forgetting the fact that
Geography was never my strong suit, I
Helplessly drown in your deep waves
Inescapable in their pursuit
Just one look and I’m stuck in a
Kaleidoscope of blue.
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From my newest collection Fierce Fairytales. Preorder it here: http://hyperurl.co/FierceFairytales
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//Maples and Marigolds//
All of the colors in the leaves begin to
Blend as if an artist carefully
Constructed them to
Destruct once the cool mountain air
Envelopes their once earthy
Foliage.
*A.M.E.
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Purple Bruises and White Lies
I stared through angry eyes around my room, wavering at the window bench seat where I knew I would never sit again, enjoying the warmth of the summer sun while reading my favorite J.R.R. Tolkien novel. My heart was pounding through my chest, as I began remembering all the times my little brother, Tyler, would crawl under the covers with me because he had another nightmare, or when Freedom, our German Shepherd, would hop into bed with me because I couldn’t stop crying from hearing Mom and Dad fight. I remember watching Dad from my reading spot, cutting himself because he had covered up Mom’s tattooed name on his arm and felt guilty. I felt the hot tears slipping down my rosy cheeks, wishing this was all a dream as I laid one last hand on the soft folds of my comforter.
“Get the fuck down here. I want you out!” Mom screamed from the bottom of the stairs as I swung the green tote over my shoulder and tried to navigate the large crate down the stairs with only the most important of my belongings I could fit. I didn’t have much time. Mom and I had been coming to blows for months, ever since Dad moved out and she started dating again, coming home at 3a.m. with her pantyhose in hand, stumbling drunk as if she couldn’t see through her smeared mascara. I was beyond angry from having to watch my brothers every night while she went out and got blasted but knew that they needed someone to protect them. I grunted as I lifted my things off of the last few steps, entering our dining area.
“You have three choices. You can go with your father, Nana, or I can call the cops.” Mom was literally spitting with anger as she gave the ultimatum as if any of those choices were better than the others.
“Call the cops,” I said. “Let them come so I can tell them all the fucked-up shit you’ve put us through.”
“Oh please, Ashley. Always so dramatic. I’m calling Nana.” Mom starts dialing the phone and I put my belongings down on the hardwood floor, smelling the sweet smell of Pine-Sol and wood stain that I knew I would never smell again without remembering this moment.
“Mom, I need her out now. Can she stay with you? Yes, well, she can’t stay here. I’m not doing this anymore.” Mom hands the phone to me and folds her arms, eyes red and tired. I almost want to laugh at how crazy she looks, especially considering I can smell the Bacardi still tingling on her lips.
“Hi, Nana. I’m not coming with you.” I look at Mom quickly, sensing her daggers, then divert my eyes to the ground.
“Ashley, listen. Your mother needs a break. You need to come with me for a while. You can’t go with your father. He is bipolar and psychotic and needs help. Do you really want to go with that?” I can hear her sneer through the phone, knowing she has never had room in her heart for my father. I’ve honestly just had enough at this point of everyone bashing on Dad, the only parent who was trying to better himself.
“Look, don’t talk about my father like that. Go fuck yourself.” I flip the phone closed and hand it back to my mother.
“I’ve already called Dad. He will be here in twenty minutes.” I start to shimmy my crate towards the door, placing my bag on top of it and getting ready to say goodbye to Freedom, cowering in the corner from all the drama that has unfolded in the last hour.
“Just for all the heartache you’ve given me, I’m calling the high school on Monday to let them know you don’t live here anymore. You will have to finish off senior year somewhere else. We’ll see how you like that.”
“Honestly Mom, you’re going to hell for all the shit you’ve put us through.” I am literally at my breaking point, but I know Dad is on his way and I have to maintain my cool. I walk towards the door when suddenly Mom comes up behind me and I feel her hands slide their way around my neck.
“You will not talk to me like that!” Mom screams as she turns me around and starts pushing me into the wall, knocking down her display of baseball memorabilia, as glass shatters to the floor.
“Mom. Stop. Please.” My eyes plead as I beg her to let go. My head is starting to feel like it’s about to explode. Please don’t pass out. I beg myself.
Mark and Tyler come in from playing baseball in the yard. I can hear them kicking off their cleats and throwing their gloves on the table, fighting over who could pitch the fastest. Please don’t let them see this. I’m gripping mom’s wrists now, trying to prevent her nails from digging in any deeper.
“Mom, stop! You’re hurting her!” Mark starts screaming as Tyler immediately bursts into tears, holding the dog back as Mark lunges at our mother, pulling her off me. I run my hand up to my neck, hot with anger and bleeding from her nails.
“Get out! Get out!” My mother screams as I unlatch the front door and start running. Trying to catch my breath while running at the same time, I stumble as my bare feet smash onto the rocks along the side of the road. Just half a mile, I tell myself, just make it half a mile.
I pull out my cell phone as I’m running, trying to frantically explain to Dad what’s going on. I know that if Mom calls him first, he might believe whatever story she decides to tell.
“Ash, you have to go back. The neighbor called me. The cops were called. You have to be there.” Dad tells me, his voice shaky but stern.
“But Dad, she tried to kill me!” I start crying again, hot tears and snot running down my face.
“She’s not going to touch you again, Ash. But you need to be there when the cops get there. Mark and Tyler need you there. I will be there soon. Promise.” He disconnects the call and I take a second to catch my breath. My hands are trembling on my knees, trying desperately to keep my balance. I’m tired and shaken but I know I must turn around. I shouldn’t have left Mark and Tyler with her.
I start wondering if she will hurt them while I am gone. After all, Mark did pull her off me. She seemed to only be violent with me though, probably because I challenged her the most. It just made me so angry inside that she stopped being a parent. She used to tell me that getting pregnant with me ruined her teenage years. Whose fault was that?
I finally catch some air and sprint back home, to find the police still haven’t made it there yet. Mom is in her room and Mark and Tyler are on the couch, both with tear-streaked cheeks, holding onto our dog like their life depended on it. I tell them it will be okay and grab a sweater in the top of my bag after noticing the purple marks up and down my neck. In the mirror, I see the reflection of red and blue lights on the front lawn and I go outside, closing the door behind me so that they don’t see the broken glass all over the front room.
“Good afternoon, miss. Do you live here?” The cop looks at me as I sit down on the front steps, pulling my sweater tight around my neck.
“Yes sir, I do.” I’ve somehow gained composure, even though my face is still burning up.
“The neighbors called and said there was a commotion. They heard yelling and saw you take off up the street. Everything okay here?”
“Yes, officer. Just had a disagreement with my Mom so I took off up the road. Needed to clear my head.” I look the officer dead in the eyes because I want him to believe my story.
“Is anyone hurt? Did anything get physical? The neighbors said it seemed a bit chaotic over here.” The officer looks at me, clearly skeptical at my story.
“Oh, nothing like that, officer. Just some yelling and I knocked over a shelf on my way out the door. I’m awfully clumsy, you know.” I laugh, despite that fact that I am literally screaming inside.
“Are your parents’ home?” The officer starts looking towards the driveway and I am suddenly thankful that the cars are in the garage.
“Nope, just me Officer. My Mom left when I did. We just needed some time to cool off is all.” I shrug, really hoping he doesn’t press further, though I know he should.
“Well, if you ever need me, here’s my card.” The officer hands one to me and takes one last hard look at me.
“Thank you, officer. I appreciate you checking on us.” The officer tips his hat and walks away, getting into his squad car and pulling back onto the street. I look back and see Mark and Tyler peeking through the blinds and I glare at them as they quickly close them.
I sit on the steps and contemplate what just happened. I ask myself why I lied and try to think if that was the best move. I think about all Mom has done to us and wonder if I shouldn’t have just spilled it all out then and there. Yet I know why I lied. Dad has been sleeping at a friend’s house during the divorce and I didn’t want my brothers taken away if no one was able to take care of them. The thought of them in the custody of DSS made me shiver. I tell myself one more year and I will fight for custody of them myself.
“Hey Ash.” I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn’t even see Dad pull up. He’s rolled down the passenger side window of his silver Ford, waving at me.
“You ok, Fluff?” He looks at me with concerned eyes. God, I hate that nickname.
“Yeah, I’m good, Dad. The cops are gone.”
“Gone already? What did you tell them?” I can tell he is panicking a little by the tremor in his voice.
“Nothing. I lied. I needed to protect them, Dad.” I look at him and notice his face harden. He knows that I know he is not ready to take them.
“Fluff, I know this is hard for you. Things will get better. I promise. And when I am able, I promise to fight to get them away from her. Let me help you grab your stuff.”
Dad enters the front of the house. Mom is still in her room. Mark and Tyler run and hug Dad, telling him how they saved me and crying between giggles as Dad tries to tickle them and cheer them up. I watch this image, knowing it’s one I will never forget. Mark and Tyler hug me and I feel the warmth of the sibling bond we share.
“I’ll see you guys soon. Dad is taking us to Canobie Lake next weekend!” I try to smile despite the fact my heart is breaking having to leave them.
“Will you ride the Corkscrew with me, Ash?” Mark looks at me, his round face enhanced by his piercing blue eyes and happy smile.
“Don’t I always? You’re my daredevil buddy, remember?” I kiss the top of his brown curls.
“And the Spinning Teacups with me?” Tyler screeches as he jumps into my arms, with his blond hair flipped up in the front and his toothless smile.
“Of course, it will be a blast!” I grin, knowing I’m about to cry.
“Why don’t you guys practice that throwing arm some more too?” Dad says to them. “Next weekend, I will play catcher and you guys can pitch to me. Better be ready!”
“Okay. Love you, Dad. Love you, Ash.” They both say goodbye nearly in unison.
“Race ya!” Mark says to Tyler, as they take back off into the yard.
“Let’s go, Fluff. They’ll be fine. She won’t hurt them.” Dad grabs my crate, I grab my bag, and we lift them into the back of his pickup. I take one last look at my brothers in the yard. I’ll be back for you, I say to myself. Promise.
*A.M.E.
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Blue Butterfly
I remember that day like it was just hours ago. The smell of the white and red roses draped over my father-in law’s deep cherry casket lingers in my nostrils. The image of his hands neatly dangling a rosary over his body is emblazoned on my brain. One of my deepest fears in life is losing someone I hold dearly and just a year and a half ago; this fear became a reality. Perhaps watching someone you love suffer with the reality of losing their parent is an even harder fate. It is not something I would wish on my worst enemy. We have been through a lot in the last decade or so together, but we could not have been prepared for that year if we tried.
My father-in-law, Bill, was as energetic as they come. Though only in his early seventies, he could have been mistaken for a man twenty years younger. He was always on the go and always ready for a new adventure. He loved nature and the mountains, and even now, we always see little signs of him along the climb as we take the same mountain paths ourselves, such as the blue butterfly that always seems to appear when we take a rest on the mountain's ledge. Without fail, that little sign always makes us smile and it has become a reminder of the man we loved so much.
Josh, my husband, was raised by his grandparents because his own parents were too immature to take care of themselves, let alone a child. Though Bill was technically Josh’s grandfather, you never would have known that there was a generational gap. Josh is the spitting image of Bill, down to his smug (at times) facial expressions, unwavering work ethic, and slightly receding hairline, a family trait. When I tell Josh that he needs to take a break from working on his days off, I get the same grunt that his grandmother, Beverly, used to get from Bill. They really put meaning behind the saying the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
When we were told that Bill had a tumor, Josh and I already knew to prepare for the worst.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Beverly told us. “Just a quick procedure and he will be good as new.”
“Meem, you know he’s been forgetting things lately. Maybe it’s the tumor.” Josh looked over at me with a red face and glassy eyes.
“What are you saying, Joshua? That it’s cancer?”
“I’m just saying it could be. That would really explain a lot. He forgot how to drive home for crying out loud!” I could tell Josh was starting to get angry, realizing his grandmother was going to be hard to get on board with all this news.
Over the next few months, many of our conversations went the same way. The diagnosis didn’t look good and Bill was trying to come to terms with so quickly losing his quality of life. We discovered that he had a very aggressive and rare form of brain cancer and the doctors gave him no more than the year to live. It was already May, so Josh took the news especially hard, and grappled with the idea that his grandfather was not going to be around for much longer. I think the worst part of all this was seeing Josh hurt. The positive side of things for us was that Bill was not in pain, though realizing his life was coming to an end was no less frightening for what it’s worth. Bill’s tumor got removed shortly after being diagnosed, but the cancer was so aggressive that it grew back in a matter of two months. By October, doctors had determined that there was nothing more they could do. Chemo failed. Radiation failed. We felt like life had failed us.
Bill moved into the hospice home right by our own residence. I remember sitting on cold cushioned chairs pulled up to Bill’s bedside, as he stared blankly at the television. We would try to talk to him, but he would only murmur. The steroids he had been taking made his body swell to the point that he was nearly unrecognizable. It was like looking at a person that you’ve known your whole life, yet something is so changed that they nearly seem like a stranger. I remember his hands and how cold, yet soft they were. Even though he could hardly respond to us, someone was there at all hours of the day to make sure he knew we were there.
Christmas time was approaching fast and Beverly came and decorated Bill’s room. The mantle was covered in cards from family and friends and a little Christmas tree stood on the table, twinkling with colored lights and an angel on top. The week before Christmas, Bill’s doctor let us know that he did not have long, estimated at a few days at most. Josh and I left work both frantic messes and spent the night curled up on the recliner and sofa next to Bill’s bed. I laid awake that night just watching Bill breathe, holding my own breath as his become shallower and spread further apart, waiting for them to stop altogether. I watched Josh turn over and face his grandfather, looking so peaceful now that he finally got to rest. Tears streamed silently down my face because I knew that the pain we felt was only going to get worst.
The day before Christmas Eve, Josh and I had taken the day off from work to do last-minute holiday preparations and to spend some time with Bill. We ended up staying at the hospice home late, just talking about how much things had changed. Just before midnight, we decided it was time to go and that we would be back first thing the next morning.
“I love you, Schnump,” I stuttered out through my shaky voice, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“It’s okay if you want to go Schnump. Meem is okay. I will take care of her. I love you. We will be back first thing tomorrow.” Josh leaned over and kissed his grandfather’s head and squeezed his hand, swearing that he could almost feel a squeeze back.
I grabbed his hand as we walked out into the light snow, our truck illuminated underneath the lamps of the parking lot. I ran my hand along the walled sidewalk, molding a small snowball in hand, which I tossed in Josh’s direction.
“It will be okay,” I tried to reassure him, “We will get through this. Together.”
“I know. It just really fucking sucks.” Josh kicked snow back my way. “I don’t understand why things happen this way.”
On the way home, we sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the windshield wipers removing the dusting of snow on our windshield. We crawled into bed together, letting our pit-bull Phil climb into the mix of covers and warm bodies. Just as I had finally found a comfortable spot to rest my head in the crook of Josh’s arm, his phone rang.
“Schnump passed,” We heard Beverly say on the other end of the phone. “Just a few minutes ago at about 12:15 a.m. I wish someone had been there with him.” Even though she had just lost her husband, she sounded fairly composed.
“Meem, you won’t believe this, but we just left a half hour ago. We were there. I told him he could go.” Josh breathed in deeply, trying to maintain what little composure he had left.
“That’s wonderful, Joshua.” Beverly let out a sigh of relief.
“I told him you would be taken care of. Nice of him to go on Christmas Eve, that Grinch.” Josh smirks a little, knowing how much Bill hated Christmas and knowing how pleased he’d be to know he marred the holiday forever.
“Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll need some help with a few things. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Josh hangs up the phone and pulls me closer. We lay in silence, listening to the snores of Phil in between our own quiet sobs. I was relieved when Josh fell asleep because I knew he would get a break from the reality he would need to deal with in the morning.
The next few days went by in slow motion. We spent Christmas Day bent over the kitchen table, looking at pictures and memories kept in dusty yellowed boxes from the basement. We laughed at Bill in his youth, full head of hair and some obscenely short shorts to match with his much too high tube socks. We saw the proud moments for Bill, where he stood next to the first boat he had ever built in the basement of their first home. We cried happy tears over pictures of Bill and Josh when he was just a baby and sad tears over more recent pictures, just before we had to face the terrible months to come. We were preparing ourselves for the services ahead, knowing these would be some of our hardest moments.
I will never forget how Josh knelt in front of that red-hued casket, head bent with tears in his eyes, trying to muster what he wanted to say to his grandfather, the man who had influenced him the most in his life. His shoulders sagged in his suit coat and he was paler than his Italian skin usually allowed him to be. Even as he helped lift the casket into the hearse, he somehow maintained his stability and composure, though I knew inside that he was a changed man.
I learned two things that day, the first being how strong I really am even in moments where I expect myself to be weak. Though I cried in silence to myself in the bathroom before and after the services. I seldom let myself show it in front of anyone else during those times. For anyone that knows me, hiding my emotions is my greatest challenge. I watched the man I love endure a loss so great that I thought it might break him for a long time.
Instead, it came to be a time of great motivation for us both, and in that I learned the second thing, being how strong we really are together. We have endured so many obstacles and each time, have been able to come out stronger. I was prepared for this situation to cause a rift between us, but instead, we became stronger together. We’ve each learned to be more patient and willing to work around obstacles. We’ve learned to cherish our time together more and have taken many of Bill’s life lessons to heart. Josh lost over eighty pounds and gained his confidence and health back again. I went after things that scared me before, realizing that nothing positive can come from comfort zones. Even now, Bill is our motivation to do better and be better. He is our blue butterfly.
*A.M.E.
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No Returns
Your Depression was my gift.
It made me realize the monster I could become
If I didn't learn how to unclench my teeth.
My fingers tighten, digging white knuckles into my mouth,
Trying to stiffle the screams inside my head.
Yellow stained pillows and coffee table rings.
Your depression makes me care about the little things.
It at one point made you weak
In a moment where I really needed you to be the strong one.
But now I'm the wind at my own back,
Howling to get through these tangled curls
I inherited from you.
I've watched you succumb to those darkest moments.
Sinking into brown eyes in the mirror,
I know that won't be me.
Your gift was enough.
I won't need the receipt.
*A.M.E.
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There's No Such Thing As Fairy Tales 2.0
Slam me with your scandaled heart of sharp thorns.
Strike at me swiftly with each tangled lie.
Stab me slowly with your dark deviled horns.
See me survive when you thought I would die.
Kiss icebound lips, no longer your Snow White.
Taste my pulse, threatening you from inside.
As the sun fades to sleep, so comes the night.
Now you are feeling the need to go hide.
Screaming through the static as the sky pours,
Smashing down the stone you built around me.
My once sleeping soul stimulates and soars.
Awake from my slumber, you had drowned me.
Study me slip away, save one last look.
I’m not a chapter to add to your book.
*A.M.E.
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Nature's Embrace 2.0
You make me believe in moving mountains,
Even though my hands feel weak holding stones.
I look to the steady horizon,
Knowing your constellations call me home.
I can breathe your oxygen at the highest points,
Even when the altitude expands into my lungs.
You’re my steady stairway towards the stars,
Knowing I’m never content swinging by the moon.
I used to fear that my flame would diminish completely.
Too much water and salt have aggravated these wounds,
But you were the fuel I needed to burst into flames again.
You made me feel alive when I thought I had burned out.
Your laughter reaches the caverns of my soul,
Threatening to melt these ice shards around my heart.
The fires in the deepest parts of me roar to life.
You’re the kindling that fights to keep me warm.
Your aura emits a radiance as tenacious as the sun.
The flares you exhibit are strong enough to burn the boundaries
I never wanted for myself.
You’ve helped me break from the hold of the Earth’s gravity.
The love I have for you is neither black nor white,
But rather as dazzling as all the shades of the rainbow.
You could alter your colors but you choose to be
A chameleon of choice so that I can see your intentions.
We stand with the tide as it breaks upon the shore,
As it overtakes us, enveloped in the soft sand.
There’s never a question as to where we stand.
We are as sure as the sky meets the ocean.
We don’t get distracted when the world shakes
Or when the tectonic plates shift apart.
We are unbreakable as long as we are together,
Because our earth is in the cusp of our hands
*A.M.E.
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