Day 30 - Snow

I am exactly what I've always been.

I am not one of them.

I am spent.

I am falling in the powder

in the front yard,

I am asking nature for one final direction.

I am wrapped in the peripheral limbs

of some existence.

I am that abandoned house.

I am stripped of earthly necessity,

I am feeling the stump of my missing arm

bleeding again, a cicada

leaving its shell.

I am breathing communion,

I am choking on nothing

I am swallowing home

I am buried in lost instinct.

I am struggling to recognize the two figures

standing above me, one man

and one woman

like there always is,

I am not hearing if the sounds they make

are of my own language, of if

they are moans of hunger.

I am trying to listen.

I am closing my eyes

to the snow swirling down upon me.

I am growing

upwards.