How everything differs around while we are trapped in the plight,
After the countless winters, the once-cold seasons.
The shakiness in your voice blurs my sight,
At the center of chaos I’ve lost my reasons.
Apologizing pushes tears out of their “hotbed,”
And covers myself in dreams, in snow, in cold.
I stand in the midst of forest, looking at the unrecognizable paths ahead.
My footprints concealed by the snow, my eyes covered with a blindfold.
Unbreathable air, unspeakable whisper,
Stories that were never told,
The sight of your back that seemed to be on the other side of a river,
The hands should have continued to hold.
Heart bleeds in tears and freezes in the snow,
Whispers hide behind the micro-emotion.
The hands that could not let go,
The words that were never outwardly spoken.
As I called your name my hands strung together by invisible ties,
You stood up and said this shouldn’t be.
Whispers in my ears, snow in my eyes,
This is not the end, baby.
—
Photo Credit: Country Living Magazine
