Arctic Circle of Trust
I wander these winding streets. My breath frosts and I hope this jaded sneer I’ve worn freezes onto my face. I crave the stillness of the frigid, deathly quiet night I’m enveloped in. Welcoming the bitterness of gusts whistling into my headphones. I’ll fade into a whirlwind of sound in my ears and my footsteps. Ever drifting towards a purpose that’s escaped me. Forever deceived by a haphazard reason to simply “be”. When you saunter towards your end, All you’ve ever wanted is arms’ length distance from anything of meaning. Edited this fucking thing while celebrating steel reserve day; and I’m not completely repulsed by the drivel I just puked onto my computer screen. Probably the first poem I’ve posted in the new year. Oops. I suppose this poem is about the odd comfort that comes in being alone and taking a walk along streets made desolate by the welcoming harshness of winter. FFO: BRRRRRRRRR, isolation.