How I Felt
And in that moment I turned to snow. Compelled by an endothermic quiet… a silence… a long draw of icy breath. Punctured now and then by the twat outside smashing ash trays into flagstones. There were no screams, or breath. I had no mouthpiece, only a set of pebble eyes. My lips, stolen, laid puddled at my feet. Commanded by the endothermic silence… left grasping for breath. I saw you nail fence posts with rocks. Hammering stakes with your fists.
I ran outside
to show you
how I felt.
