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The window fogs from my breath |
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My face pressed up close, up close against |
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Catching the snowfall under a beam of streetlight |
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And praying for accumulation all through the night |
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These confrontations puncture the skin |
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Reveal evidence that you are easily broken, you're so easily broken |
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Exposed and relentlessly bleeding from the cracks |
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At that age when everything is seemingly life or death |
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Please let the snow swallow the streets whole |
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Keep the bus from coming |
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Let us stay at home so we can avoid the daily drudgery |
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The cruelty fueled from laughter that will echo in our sleep |
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Seasons, weakening the hold the blades dulled |
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From the front that hints the snow warming engine slowly turns |
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Stuttering awoken from the sounds of shovels scraping concrete |
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At that age when everything is seemingly life or death |
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Adrenaline fuels my |
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Fist grinds my teeth through sleep |
