-I DESERVE IT, YOU DESERVE IT-

Step by step in the dead of night, feet crunching over hardening snow. Unfortunately, not pillow soft like shown in the movies. More like white concrete with the ability to melt. Arms crossed over ribs, chin bent to chest, conserving body heat while on the move. The only source of light provided being the moon, lighting a pathway for me to walk. I stop, realizing the fact that walking is unnecessary, and crouch beneath a tree. Shade only making me colder, but hanging leaves shielding me from raging snowfall. I am rocking back and forth like a child’s crib, only without a swinging mobile above to distract from my current, fatal circumstances. Beginning to close in on myself like a dying star, wilting away like a marigold in winter, withering like plastic near heat. But suddenly, a patch of sunlight surrounds the ground I lay on. A hand outstretches before me, and it is my own. I look at it then turn away in distaste. I don’t deserve it. The hand stays, if not outstretching farther. Head raised I take it. I deserve it. I deserve my own help.

-ifthenightcouldtalk