Was always my favorite.
I liked the silence of cold air
That gnawed at my cheeks
And wearing squashy layers
And new rubber boots
And huddling close together
And marshmallows bobbing in hot chocolate
And the way the sky turned pink
When it snowed.
But they said it was winter
That killed you
Even though I prayed
To God
To Santa
To the pink sky.

After they buried you
And stained the white hill black with dirt
I lay in the snow
Until it soaked through my jacket
And clung, cold and wet,
To my back
And bit into my scalp
And I left my mouth open
Until it filled with bitter frost
And I let the flakes heap upon me
Until they felt like solid ice on my chest
And I stared at the pink sky
Until it blinded me
Until I hated it.