okay, so its sort of a prose-poem, but that's still half prose, right? so it goes here.

snow

(03-05-01)

so what do you do when the  i m m e n s e  beauty of a snow-covered world just isn't anymore? when the whole world presents itself in shades of black and white, and you want to crawl back into your technicolour dreams for comfort...but you've forgotten where they are. when the heavy flakes falling outside your [w|i|n|d|o|w] bury you * one * flake * at * a * time * until you can no longer breathe and all you can see is the spiraling, waiting for one last piece to cover your eyes. waiting to be blind to the pain--the only thing you can still feel besides cold. waiting for the pounding of your heart to be silent; its boom making boom your boom head boom ache.