#winterfire

22 years is a long time,
And this is far from the
Worst winter I’ve had,
But I’ve ¾ of a life to go,
(It feels like immortality)
And I don’t want to feel
The cold alone.
That mountain log cabin
Burned to the ground
Long ago,
And I have yet to decide
If it’s wrong to drink soup
From a metal water bottle.
(It feels like immorality.)
“Love, you must always love,
I will never let you live
In a world where not loving
Is an option.
You must love.”
I’m trying, I swear,
But love is confusing
And there’s many different kinds.
Will pragma only ever
Inhibit agape?
Does ludus conflict
With philia?
Is eros necessary to
Know what love is?
There’s too much to consider.
(It feels like my achilles heel.)
I’m capable of loves,
I still don’t know which,
But it seems the cure to winter
Only ever makes it colder for me.
If you checked your phone
And called me sometimes,
Maybe it’d be just a little bit
Warmer and brighter,
Than previous winters.

~A.G. 11/1/19