This is the first breath that I've ever cared about.
Please abandon your everlasting doubt.
We've opened up a magic portal through an alien route,
exposing you to my internally dying dehydrating drought.

I'm like a waning foreign phoenix finding fairness in its contaminated ashes.
I still get flashes of post-traumatic emotional rashes,
from an abstract haunting nightmare  that I don't care to wear
on my not-so-bare chest anymore.
Be aware that I don't always do my share,
and that I am made of skin that has been known to ware and tear.
If this is just Truth or Dare, I don't want to play anymore.
Please be fair.
Please beware.

The snow has suddenly stopped straining my spiraling somber sorrows into silent sirens sounding seasonal surreal suicidal scenes of secret sappy solitude tomorrows.

And though the weakening leaves outside are withering,
and my feeble frozen bones are quietly quivering;
my shivering insides are shyly shifting
into brand new hues of brighter blues
that are constantly turning into a lighter and mightier muse,
like the autumn leaves that heroically live beneath my yearning Red Wing shoes.

I'm on a blissful beach of elated snow,
burying my feet in what we both know;
that our doubt has been put to rest below.