how should i freeze?

I’m sitting by the window
as it gets colder and colder,
but I won’t slide it shut just yet. I like the sound
of motorcycles,
of strange bugs,
of possibilities I could chase if only I had a friend.

I know the world is beautiful
even when it’s cold. I feel the beauty of goose bumps.
I can see my hair stand on end
and say,
“That’s me.”
But if I close the window,
all I have left are freckles,
and my bra strap that won’t stay up.

Beauty isn’t living until it’s captured,
and captured isn’t beauty until it’s faded.
But how can I fade my life and still be here?