I'm going to start writing again

takes over
and isn't there.
when you grasp for it
it comes loose in your hands.
feel into
do unto
the others that consume you.
isnt it pretty when it snows?
isnt it shiity when it does

spent all last night in a dream about
falling
and catching myself dimly in the windows light,
I faintly remember a transparent figure.
turning the light on,
it got heavy.

the sounds that lull you,
dull weather
starts over

black winter river
always takes back
what it knows it cant keep
but never concedes.