Winter is coming

I can hear the chatter of my creature instinct; neurons re-connecting and diligently working to carve out new shelters 

I think I’ve slipped into my body shell once more

Invitations are not enough to weaken my hold on the deadness clinched in my teeth, my eyes, my body, and my being

But, winter is coming

If I eat away all the fat I’ve stored up in flight, will I make it through the hibernation of my mind?

Tucked away in corners and detached realites are all the nightmares I dare not re-see

Tucked away in my belly beast are all the lines the world has handed me

Prescripts of time tables and phrases…“you should be ok by now”

The truth is sometimes even though new life is emerging from the dried leaves, death after harm can weigh heavily

After all, winter is coming

Sometimes joy drips like honey; yet dangles in temptation of not yet 

Reaching for the last berry before freeze

like a true Eve; I’m holding the fruit for dear life; for dear light

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