I stand in the dark
because resting would be too easy
and so would loving you
and so would hating you
for purposes that don't belong in understanding eyes
or careful hearts
As the snow fills the air with white crystals
and blankets the ground in cold
I realize the only reason I believe it's winter
is because you told me it was January third
as if your words are a food source
that my hunger craves
and life depends on
as if you could be all I need
Next time the skies turn grey
I will paint them blue with white clouds and airplanes
to make you believe skies aren't what determine
whether or not it's a good day
And if you ever wonder why the stars are full of edges
ask sky who outlines them
and it will tell you it's because
everything leads to making points
not proving trust
which you, in fact,
already knew.