Popcorn

Icy and wet 

The air cold and crisp 

 As unmarked as a fresh piece of paper 

Powder covering the ground in a snug blanket 

“I swear, if you do that one more time-”

“Like this?”

“Do NOT kick that! Do you want to die?”

“Is that a threat?”

“Ugh, no.”

Cloudy breath cold hands

Cannot feel my nose or toes

But I love winter

Prologue: The memories

There were memories. 

Vague ones, but memories nonetheless.

Growing up is scary

So far I don’t like it all that much

I am expected to know

What I want to be in perfect detail

I have to learn how to drive

Without being afraid of the big trucks

I have sat and stayed this way, wrongly accepting that there’s not much that I can change.

However, recently, I have come to see

that life is a chronicle

and you have to compile the moments that define you.