The Winter Of My Discontent

there's a bite in the air
the kind that makes me say "snow's coming"
although it never really is

I can't share words anymore
I don't want it to seem attention seeking
although it never really is

have you ever seen leaves spin upwards
the wind taking them in twists and whorls they didn't think to expect?
far from here your life is spinning onwards
mine is too
I suppose
although I know the truth of that
whereas your truth is held quieter
kept even, perhaps
from your own internal dialogue

I have words, you see
and colours
movements
sensations and feelings
and energy to release
held in too long

there goes another leaf

it's me I can't figure out
spinning upwards
laughing, giddy
an intake of air as I try to grasp the nothing that I'm floating in

I am muzzled by my thinking
feeling that's the way to keep the peace with you
although it never really is

there's a bite in the air
the kind that makes me say "snow's coming"
although it never really is