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.
