Sometimes that damn cold knocks you out.
The wind blows you over
And the hail pounds against your head.
The dampness then sets in
Just as you think you’re inside,
Safe and dry.
It’s then you realize you won’t win
Because in settles the weight
Which fills your head with remorse.
Out blows the hot air
Which barely keeps you warm.
The bags under your eyes form
And the chapped skin grows
Around your lips and nose.
All from one too many sleepless nights
And an infatuation with an intoxication
That once made you feel whole.
Maybe this is just a passing flu.
Maybe it’s the weight of all these years.
Maybe it’s the stress
Which you failed to release with tears.
But, damn, this cold is hard pressed
To not let you overcome…
When once upon a time,
You thought you had already won.
–Written by Sandy Heights
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