The burnt out fibers
Of my stretched and stained heart
Have just become taut,

Like sparks behind my eyes
And electricity at my fingers,

The world flickers into place
Like a Polaroid winking into existence,

My breaths may be shallow
But I can breath again,
And though my lungs may be rusty,
The air is clean,
The leaves are crisp,
And Winter may have just begun

But I'm feeling warmer already.