Celcius slips; 𝘴𝘶𝘣-𝘻𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘦𝘥
by the world's growing cold.
Soon, snow surrounds me,
buries me;

𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺.

SʜᶦᵛᴱriᴺG, as a spotlight sun
seldom shares me its shine.
Trapped within trappings
far too ragged and thin;

𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹.

Finding only frigid faces
hidden behind frozen masks.
Unconcealed, without costume,
cursing their ｃｌａｙ－ｃａｓｔ cadence;
I turn my back to their turned backs.

Fearing their foreign words
might blind me;

𝗠𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝗺𝗲.

So I grow where nothing’s sown
a proximity without 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘺

My frozen fingers
failed to feel my heart finally numb.
In its place, an empty space.
Looking for leftover love
                          
...𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗵𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀.