Spring

Frozen ground, frozen heart.

Art falling out of its frame as I tumble down, down, down.

Golden hair everywhere, arms splayed open like the angel of death.

I exhale, and can feel the breath being sucked out of me by the trees, craving any bit of carbon dioxide they can salvage.

A thin layer of frost covers the grass. Tendrils upon tendrils of interlacing threads weave together to create a pattern. The lacy dress of a snow queen trembles with the heat.

Falling off the edge sometimes.

Trying to balance on this tipping world, but tumbling,

tumbling down onto the

harsh solid ground.