White Blindness
Every winter I say that she won't make it, her spine will crack, she'll break her back, and go tumbling, stumbling into the snow. What a fight she's putting up, it will mean all the more when she loses. There's no other way for it, bent rafters under bowing branches, and only coincidence to keep it all together. I've been giving in to the weather and white blindness, this season is making me a mess. Less is more, they say, and I'm more or less left with the last of my warmth. Frozen fingers, this is how I know I've gone too far, or just enough. At the edge of a heart that can't quite take the quiet, but needs it more than ever before. Pour me out in the powder, shower me with silence, and speak down, speak down, speak me down to me on the ground...

March 23, 2017
Round Hill, Nova Scotia

By becoming a patron, you'll instantly unlock access to 12 exclusive posts
34
Images
1
Video
By becoming a patron, you'll instantly unlock access to 12 exclusive posts
34
Images
1
Video
Tier Benefits
Recent Posts