The snow never stops,

this blizzard never seems to cease.

I see green,

then suddenly the snow pours on.

It melts again

and then the cold winds re-approach.

The wicked white returns

and blankets the hope of prosperity;

perhaps the hope of a blossoming rebirth.

But is that not just negative thinking,

does that not just sound like I

am making myself more miserable than I have to be?

Of course.

I am always more miserable than I have to be,

I am always making things worse.

My heart is racing.

Racing…racing…racing—

racing like that of the

fast, thick, quick and heavy

snow masses that are outside in this blizzard.

I do not know why, I cannot calm myself.

I want to run, yet I want to hide.

This indecisive pattern is so unknown

to those around me.

I even shock myself with my calm voice,

and graceful movements on the outside

when inside I feel shaky, unnerving

and falling fast.

Like the snow. Never stops.