Almost Home
The heartless gust bellows on me,
And I can't breathe;
I suffocate
At thoughts of waking 'morrow.
Each step, a robot
Numbed by icy air;
I am unaware
Of my self's feet to my home.
My tears are hot;
They sizzle out.
Creases of my eyes burning,
The suffering
of a thousand ice hearts.
Where is my comfort?
I hope to trip,
Face down to snow,
Overtaken
By lack of heat that pierces
My human skin.
Freeze my tears, fierce crystals,
Dowse my flaming mind.
Copyright © Bridgette Lace | Year Posted 2008
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