i speak in cryptic tongues a language that was made for something i thought we could be but are not. exhaustion, tangled lines along with cryptic tongues make for understanding on the other end of the tired line close to impossible. i end the conversation frustrated at the messages unconveyed. or rather, more likely so highly masked that no one but i could understand them in the first place. i must remember when i get frustrated even i cannot understand me most of the time.

the snow circled around me this morning on my walk to class, the fluffy kind, that wraps around you, and envelopes your entire body if you stand still long enough. i wish i could wash all this away with the snow. wipe the slate clean, clean, and white. i dont feel like colors today, or tomorrow, or the day after that. i want today to be beautiful and white, and untouched.

and i want it to stay untouched for now, i want to be independent and untainted, uncolored.

i dont want you to have to share this frustration, so leave it be. because no one deserves that.

"but you were the light
that i saw first
show me your candle
i dont understand
why it comes
and by the way.....

float on through
to dream on high..."

and leave this behind.