The Suffocating Flake of Snow

I awoke one morning to find my youth
had escaped to a greener,
more peaceful pasture.
This left me feeling empty for an hour of two,
until I began to create
a new mythical world.

                                *

As I sit here wondering
what you are doing now,
I long to be left alone.
I don't care

                    …and yet I do.

Isn't it a waste of thought
being sentimental about anything
        to cry for love
               to cry for ghosts
                     to cry for days and days?
Who am I to love anybody?
I am a drop of suffocating snow
pouring out of myself.
I am not capable of
                                one
                                       simple
                                                 straightforward
                                                                        anger.

                                 *

Snow flakes too suffer the memory
of ancient stains of ice-bergs,
ancient memories of Desires
that journey in silence
through submerged moments
frozen in Time's deep winter.

I am a drop of suffocating snow,
pouring out of myself
trickling to a greener
more peaceful pasture,
becoming an ancient memory of myself.