Frostbite

“like fresh flakes of snow
the kind that cut your skin like dagger
the kind that burn your skin like flame
the kind where each breath pierces your throat
that is the only way to describe the cold Down There”
I mindlessly reach for the dent in my ear
“my ear was never the same
I can't hear all too well anymore”
last time I was There
seared, etched, and engraved in me
my hearing was what was affected
but the memories are all I can see
when the bitter wind and frost colored me blue
when I witnessed my flesh bury itself beneath white
the audience blinks with sympathy
and a flicker of annoyance
I grip the award to steady myself
I am a success story
where is my success story