i hate the smell
of freezing knuckles
wrapped in tobacco
and garlic

the weight of snow
filled porches and
conversations about
when i will get out
of this spiral

i will get out of this

you're nothing,
i'm everything,
you're nothing,
i'm everything

i will repeat this
as stars sing me to
sleep and sun wakes
me up, i will repeat
this, until i finally
believe