Wednesday, January 6, 2016

frostbite

Grey masses cling to mountains as I close my eyes and revel in nothing. It’s either heat exhaustion or frostbite in this goddamn valley, and somehow it always takes me by surprise. If insanity expects different results from the same conditions, I should have been committed a decade ago. I squeeze my eyes tighter with each moment, hoping for a revolution: inside my head, or outside my window. I remember your voice shifting between drunken playfulness, somber sadness, pleading confusion. Your tears nearly brought me back, frozen with painful desire, but spiteful reflection shows me otherwise. Take a shot of bravery and promise me you’ll bring back summer before I open my eyes. Promise me anything, and I’ll swallow it whole.

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