The Cold in My Heart

Old Man Winter has come again, the colors of Fall fading away like the hope in my heart. The Fall colors and maple leaves are no more, like the tenderness that I have lost forever.

The seasons will come and go, just like the love that always escapes my heart. Snow begins to fall, with the bitter cold pressing it against my face. I can see my breath form in front of my face as it escapes my lungs, like the forming of a more hopeful future.

Icicles hold their form, steady, as if a dagger were to pierce my heart with its point. The sky begins to darken, almost as if saying, “The sun is not yours either.”

I will walk. My heart will warm. I will prevail. This season shall not be the end of the family name.

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Nader Gamez grew up with a mix of influences. He calls himself “basically a Chicago street thug blended with a border-town Texican and a dash of Madison Midwesterner.” He earned a BA in International Studies from the University of Wisconsin–Madison, with a minor in drinking.

Since then, he has worked in law enforcement and corrections with the Dane County Sheriff’s Office, the Waukesha Police Department, the Wisconsin Department of Corrections, the Wisconsin Department of Health Services, and Mendota Mental Health Institute. He has also competed in amateur boxing and played with local rugby clubs.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.