winter.

it's like when i would walk on the curb and you would hold my hand so i wouldn't fall, and the fact that i'm trying to get you to live again. you want me on ice when i can barely stand up on my own feet and you want everything for me.

i once heard a bird chirping in the middle of a frozen winter.

is it hopeful or just confused?

it's like when i got frigid water in my shoes and you know how i hate that squelching noise so you carried me on your back for three blocks until we got home. and how i could see your breath every time your chest fell, like a plume of acrid cigarette smoke. i would try to catch it before it dissipated.

it's like drawing our names on the street with chalk until i couldn't even feel my fingers anymore, and we would go get me hot chocolate. you liked the fact that it made my tummy warm and you would press your face to my skin and tease my bellybutton.

it's like having conversations in the fog of the glass and you complaining that you can't read cursive, and me wondering if this is an omen.

it's like suddenly realizing that my heart is covered with frost and the hot chocolate doesn't help it anymore.