If there's snow on the ground
you might try looking around
to find out what's bringing the corners
of your pressed lips down
into the frowning position
those sweet cheeks must be
so familiar with.

If there's snow on the ground,
it might be cold
This might be why I feel so old
in comparison to how it felt
when I met you,
& you were smiling.
So long ago, now.


So -

I've been waiting for this long,
so long as I've had the capability
to pretend my thumbs aren't fumbling,
with every secret I can keep
slowly molding under my thumbs -
into lies as my silence sweetly speaks
in such violent, shocked reactions.
So.

It's a habit.
It's not hard to know if you have it.
It's bad if and when you can't grasp it.
But when you can, you intertwine
with it's empathy.
The dirtiest of purity,
dust on the mirror - still clear to see.
If you need to be
a part of me
you're going to become a habit.