silent snow

As the silent snow tingles the surface of my bones

I get a kind reminder of how warm is self forlorn.

But nothing seems more appealing than our lovers woe,

for we were never really to claim love to form.

I could paint this white gentleness with my own blood,

a red blizzard to keep you from escaping my thoughts.

If only had I been obedient to your expectations,

maybe I could have fed myself off of blessings to hone.

So as the snow fills my rooftop with silence,

I look out the window for snowflakes of your presence,

in hopes that I will hear a breeze of acceptance 

to the apology I never had the courage to compose.

And though I was the one to leave in the midnight glistening frost,

I fear the only reminder I left you was of freezing cold.