i thought it was frostbite, but it’s not, i’m just standing there, heart-racing, waist-deep in the snow. there’ snothing you can do to help me, but the wolves won’t hurt me. i’ve been here before. the frost clumps to my eyelashes, and i wince at the path less taken. i’ve done that before, too. but the blizzard is too thick, and i can’t see the forest for the trees. that’s been said before, a million times–you know what it means. i thought it was drowning, but i think it’s just osmosis. i think i’m just falling asleep. i think my fingers don’t belong to me, and my lonesome heart has really known it all along. i’ve been staring down at the water, and wondering what lurked that deep. i thought it was heatstroke, thought it was something i could treat. thought it would go away with time or place or a change of mind. but i think it might just be me. me, and my stubbornness, me and my pride. i hope i never lose it, ‘cause you need it to survive. i thought i was losing my mind, but i think i’m just seeing things clearly for the very first time.

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