Something about the cold.
Always makes me feel alive.
Even when otherwise,
I am dead inside.

Oh somewhere in the chill,
Is a will that hits the air,
A subtle sweetness, a fair
dream resounding here.

In my mind...
Blank spaces fill the gaps,
oh the universe is infinite, and nothing,
withing my synapses.
Hiding here, the greater fears,
of many people, many cultures,
many wordless wonders,
the newborns eyes look up,
blankly, oh yes, the void,
waiting, patiently,
calmly, emotionlessly,
just destiny. Hungry.
Ever fed, ever full,
every growing, ever receding,
cycling, spasming, living, dying.
All truth, all lie. All residing in here,
The darkest corners of my mind...

And then the cool breeze comes in,
Softly, sweetly, laying on,
those silly electrical currents upon,
nothing really exists anon.

Neither here nor there,
now nor later, just ok.
Just fine.
I feel less like Legion and more like one.
And it feels good.
I feel, alive.