Snowflakes

The snowflakes are here again.
As dazzling as they are,
They stampede like wilderbeests
Pests for control
And I make no attempt to stop them.

To be tucked away somewhere
In the crevice of the living
Would be the suicide I wouldn’t want to carry on from.
Amongst my own kind, at last I can breathe.

Out on hikes with blood bags
As spindly as drips are
I am weighty but they carry me to little thanks, if any
Deal with my complaining, I said I didn’t want to live.

Somehow I will if I can show you how I struggled
Sympathy would be my asset though it’s been a long time coming
And I’m not sure I can cope anymore.