Saved (today my brain is refusing to write good i guess)

Cold,

tasteless,

frozen liquid.

I stand here sucking on a piece of ice.

The air stings my nostrils.

Each breath

feels like fire.

My face is sprayed from the river,

then it stops,

blocked by something.

Over the sound of rushing water,

I hear a voice:

"What are you doing here?"

Comments 0
Loading...