Winter is bittersweet imagry, but I can imagine

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Vast roads twist and wind around my imagination, as I invision the future I hope to live. "Come with me," I begin,"Travel the ocean's waves, the sky's stars, and the rainbow's end. Let's disappear into the mist of the mountains, and get lost in the vines of soggy trees, and sleep on cotton clouds as we wish for the moon to be eternal." I see past the air I breathe, and open my mind to a whole new world beyond my grasp. Oh, how I wish I could escape. I'd walk for miles only taking left turns, while Lady Hourglass counts the time I've been wishing.

You gaze at me, as your glare strangles my hope. "No." You say. Not another syllable escapes your mouth, though it cut like a dull knife, irritating my skin, peeling it back, reddening the lines, parralel to each other. For what seemed like centuries, silence swept across both of us. I, in my shattered dream of abolishing my past, and embracing what's to come, and you. The one I wish to take along on the journey. Your warm eyes, so inviting, like dancing flames flickering in the wind, though wicked, able to burn, and kill.

"I'm Russian roulette." You state, staring ahead, your wording simply put, yet I am clueless to what you're saying. "Figure it out," You shove your hands in your pockets, and tread away.

Bones so brittle tend to break, like a twig, a weak mind will snap, leaving the branch incomplete. The frost of the winter days had not seemed to bother your icy attitude, though I would be more than happy to lend you my jacket.

Though I have fallen beneathe the ice of this unstable pond, I can breathe. I can breathe, because I wield the most important weapon in my arsenal, imagination. This is why I can sleep on cotten clouds, dissapear into the mist of soggy trees and what not. Expand your horizon just a tad, and perhaps, you'd enjoy being outside of the little box that you're used to.

It's cold, but I can only imagine





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