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I hate the cold

I walked into a door yesterday,
I still have the bruise
On my left elbow.
I hear the wind
Gusting through the trees
I can see them move
Through the skylight above me
Snow falls
Though I know it is April
My head is filled
With thoughts of someone
But I'm not sure about them
I've heard that they talk about me
Yet I don't want to betray a friend
Whose feelings have yet to establish themselves
Oh well, such is life
What to do?
The stitches in my leg hurt
I wish the swelling would go down
I long
To bend my knee all the way
Yet fear of something ripping
Quells that thought.
The snow is still falling
I hate the cold.
The wind blows
The snow glides
Along the horizon
Not falling down.
The birch tree rocks
Back and forth
I'm waiting for it to fall.