Cold fairies of white dance around in the air
of the snowy morning, laughing merrily in shrill voices.
Look at the clock, a ninety degree angle stares back at me
Time to go, grab your boots. We’re off into the wintry wasteland.
Some unfamiliar faces passed by, hidden by the icy barrier.
I had convinced myself I needed it, that one time I listened. Why couldn’t I just be lazy?
My small, tricky fingers reached out into the white and got their prize.
But I needed more, it wouldn’t be enough. This mini reward would never do.
Once more, reach out and take it. I began to feel dizzy with guilt.
The freezing metal burned my hands and my fingers started to melt.
Someone saw me, now labeling me with the letter P.
I ran away as fast as possible, past the old man shoveling the walks.
Sticky with misery, my fingers tightened around the consequence of my deeds.
Black buttons and stripy scarves fluttered by.
I looked down at my hands, down at the iron butterflies.
Almost there, droopy lungs not quite filling with oxygen.
A ringing began to grow in my ears that left me reeling.
Mr. Top hat walked by, mingling with a Ms. Fishnet tights.
Top hat looked back at me and winked.
A rectangle of doom was pushed into my hands and I meekly slipped it into my pocket.