walls of blank, padded snow lining the street
nothing looks like it did when i left
it's otherworldly and disarming
a giant padded cell, that lines the familiarities in my mind
thinking, awake o sleeper
opening the car door, one foot crunched in the sheet of white, my ears start ringing, because there is nothing to be heard. Winter's bitter kiss has struck, and I was ill prepared for any of it.
where is my mind?
No comments:
Post a Comment