could the snow weigh any heavier on my peace of mind?
it is dark.
the day is over and over again before it begins.
my friends threw rocks at me. pine cones. chased me while i was dirty. i have the distinct memory of a bloody nose due to a game of red-rover and blood on my purple dirty coat.
i am not leaving but seem to be in waiting. i am listening for the sounds of other people who may have found a way out as well as for those who are arriving here.
everything becomes a metaphor sometimes. parts of life metaphorical for other parts of life and the metaphors blur together.
i am told that circular logic is a trap.
i feel -
and yes there is science to explain this,
but then i can't help but see the shape of the universe and wonder if everything might not truly be
as it should be.