It's winter again.

Bustling malls
and second thought decisions
lead to some coffee comfort in the cold.

Whipped cream
and twelve strings
keep us mesmerized as the wind blows.

Lucky lasts
and cracked windows
as we sing our renditions to the sky.

The sun sets
before the good day is over
the dark will hold smiles.

All the pieces
fit perfectly in place.
These people; perfection and stories.

The cold this year
doesn't seem so harsh
and not so long as before.

We aim to live.
We seek to exist in a greater capacity.

Shed our blood and cry our tears.
**** **** ****.
Lie and steal.
Love and lose.
Betray and keep our selves.

How far we go to say we are alive.
Dig dig dig.
Energy from what we claim as our own.
Friends and lovers to make the steam.

When we are high:
Yell and shout
proclaim and promise
give give give.
My structure is yours.

When we are deep:
Yell and shout
withdraw and dodge
take.
At least I've only lost myself.

How many head for the heavens?
How many survive the lack of air
the awe of epiphany
the fall to crushing ground.

How many stay rooted?
How many survive the nagging thoughts
the what could haves
the weight of compressing regret.

Look at how far we go to say we are alive.