elise.writer

The frowned-upon coffee stain on your favorite sweater
The stamp of the all-too bright winter sun pressed to your eyelids
The sharp sliver under your curling crimson fingernail

If you close your eyes,
you'll feel the wind in your hair,
palms clinging to the peeling metal paint,
pushing your weightless body into the sky,
floating out the sunroof,
as your heart pulses to the beat of

As new January arises, one more layer of complications spreads throughout the lavender atmosphere.
As new January arises, one more layer of this-way-to-be (no, it's that-way-to-be) sprinkles down

Once, they were little things
of beauty and wonder,
cantering through prairie grass
to a dainty Irish folksong.
Once, they were fresh and vivid,
all colors of the rainbow at once,
gradients sifting through

The cold, its tendrils of wind
like fingers wrapping my coarse being,
the snow, like needles prickling my skin.

The warmth, its blossoming beauty
like a flower in May, the sun is kneaded
in my tender hands to become