Thirteen years of living
Pass me by on this
chill winter evening where
even the snowmen hover over
the fire
struggling to keep warm
Tiny claws scratch at my toes
and fingertips; nothing in the air
but the faint sound of the wind,
hushing me to sleep
A mother rocking her baby up
in the stars
The window takes the outline of
my hand; as my breath
hot and steamy blows against
the surface of the cold glass;
I press myself harder against it
to make out what's happening outdoors
nothing
Morning comes sooner than I could
blink my eyes
The birds sing outdoors; sunlight
spills through the window
no longer taking the shape of my hand
But the chill of winter still lingers
in the morning; even when the sun
smiles
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Canary word: Present
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,855 Reviews
Wow catherine i didnt know u could write this well, this is ella by the way
Hi there bloomc! I'm here to review your poem. Let's get started!
Great job on that! 
First off, I have to say I'm surprised at how much I enjoyed this! The way you phrased certain parts gave me clear, vivid images in my mind, and that's never a bad thing.
Actually, the only weird thing I noticed about this was the places that you broke up the lines. For example when you say...
... it's a little awkward. If I read this out loud, it would look like this:
"I press myself harder against... it... to make out what's happening...outdoors."
I don't know about you, but I think it sounds a bit off. Maybe try this:
See what I mean? It looks and reads better!
But I have nothing else bad to say! Great work. I really enjoyed it. Keep writing!
-Knightley