January 25, 2011
The cold ruffles against vulnerable skin
It numbs the bones, and you can feel your heart quake
The harsh, soft, ugly, beautiful snow is cleansing, you're confessing your frailties
And the wind echoes your short huffs, breathing against your face
You wake from the cold, into your bed
Condemned to your room, the window shivers against the cold, shoved against the biting gusts
The blizzard running, pulsing in your veins
In your snowstorm world, silence is King

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