We bleed just to know we're alive

phs: myself

All alone with myself, as deep December invades my soul; its angry cold biting on to every piece of me, not ever letting go. Putting my talent of throwing punches to a waste; putting the meaning of every day life as equal in importance as a torch is at mid-day. All the screams flown lost in the storm, a tornado of pleading voices making its way to the sky. All hope buried under the snow, a gigantic snowball of lost dreams.