Jessy189

It's finally snowing again, blankets of peace falling with a freshness that lacks innocence. Nearly forgotten, they're here as expected, clearing the streets, trying to push aside all the worry that makes things unsafe, but the steel mouth askew grates against my heart; its thick bass scrape pushing more than piles of white aside, it pushes my blood aside too, piling it up in the corner of this pumping vessel that falters, ice-caked and bitten, stiffened, and keeps faltering, again, and again, and again, until the air is silent and the street no longer shivers in torture. The only evidence is the blanket of white that keeps