Your eyes open surprised your still alive.
Your frail body aches but you jump to your feet,
your stringy wet hair stuck to your face.
You inhale the cold air; still confused; dream, delusion, omen?
You stare down at your arms the fragile vains riddled with holes,
marked with scars a year in the making.
You know you’ll never see the new year.
You look to the sky the sun is rising, it doesn’t compare.
You close your eyes to relive the dream,
you see the water reflecting light like a millions prisms,
you feel it’s beauty wash over you.
Church bells began to ring in the Christmas morning mass.
Peace and tranquility warm your chilled body.
Empty, drained; you walk slowly, silently through the icing puddles.
You know what you must do.
The church is near, will he be waiting?
Tiny snowflakes swirl around you all feels right, for now.