When the snow started to fall I thought about the mystery of this slowly flaking sky.
I began to realize why old people want to die because I no longer stirred when the clouds began to crumble.
I wanted so hard to feel but my thoughts, like cold steel told me I’d seen it all before dark clouds, in my mind, began to rumble.
They tore open a page in dire outrage and the words started to fall as I thought about it all.
The long, cold fall.