Day 79 (I want all of my shadows. And I want this for you too.)

To be this cold

is penetrating,

as if all the layers were

opened as a window to 

the depth of winter. 

The cold of my disposition,

that I've tried to melt away

for so long,

only to now see, as clearly as my frosty

exhales make my presence known,

this ice is part of me,

and am I not useful?