my room is a temple.

the snow-filled hush

drives me insane.

wind sways the trees

until they bend on their

knees.

and I kill the doves

with my moaning.



in this frozen tower

the warmth I find

is mine alone,

and the icicles,

they sting me with their

longing.



snow melts on the windowpanes.

I am haunted

by the soul of my past.

falling down like snow all

around me,

burying my feet, stinging my hands

making it hard to walk away,

to see what's in front of me.



my loneliness swirls around

me, a blizzard.

I am shut up in the house

of my head,

unable to escape,

to befriend the snowmen

waiting outside.