I feel the winter so cold in my arms
the breeze dances through my skin miming a ballad of tears
every step paints a goosebump on my surface
as my skin turns from pale to a blue waltz
and as the first fall of snow arrives
it shatters on my face like a glass window let free into the storm
it's shrapnel cutting me so soft yet so deadly
from one second to the next autumn's warmth turns to the dead of winter
is it the pain that draws me nearer to the ice?
or is it the hope for the next summer that makes me smile?
is it the way that her body takes away the cold in me?
or is it the words from her mouth that whisper cupid's wake?