I Hate Snow

I hate snow, always have.

I despise its delicate spontaneous drifts

And the way snowflakes snuggle onto my lashes

Merely to weigh me down.


The method of the sunny beams

Pushing off its polished purity

To clasp and smolder my young skin.

A pretty face won’t hide its viciousness.


However, these are no great disturbances.

Not at all, you see honey.

This silky cool milk’s strength sadly highlights

The ugly and gruesome premonition of blood.


Before that day,

The saying of snow blanketing

Nature’s unmasked or insecure body

Was very much commended by me.


But I guess Mother wasn’t in the mood

That particular evening.

Concealing her own blemishes held greater priority

Than maintaining her child’s innocence.


His blood. It was so perceivable!

Yet was my potential and eternal path.

So you catch sight of the reality darling.

I hate snow, and forever will.