The glistening snow sweats off the arms of the woods,
The sun's warmth challenges the breeze,
But the breeze knows how to get under my skin,
The sun can only touch gently on the surface.

And another thing: my mind is at ease,
But it must be arousing to knead an angel in the doughy snow,
Rather than ******* my boots, pack up my book bag,
And to tune out the rest, put on my headphones,
Playing songs to keep me stuck inside my head.

Rather than grinding equations,
Taking notes,
Inspecting writing,
Instead of analyzing one of these,
I'd like to read glowing literature for my heart's sake.

The best days begin and end like this.
These days tranquilize me,
Sequester cortisol from my brain,
And quell thoughts of then,
thoughts of tomorrow, thoughts of today,
thoughts of when, thoughts of who,
thoughts of why, thoughts of how,
thoughts of you.

So since you aren't here to feed my soul,
And I can't read in this city's wretched cold,
I'll tuck myself inside my bed,
And burn my eyes on my phone screen instead.