I am wishing I was elsewhere

when I can barely manage to be here.

the sweet hypocrisy of the divi           ded self

My limbs quiver like tree boughs

in these unforgiving gelid gusts

and sap creeps into my aching veins,

so please forgive me if I shudder

and cannot look you in the eye.

there is a tempest present you cannot detect

Benumbed, I can do nothing in particular

save chip myself away, piece by p

                                                                            i

                                                                        e

                                                                                      c

                                                                                    e.