When it was all over, I wished I had been selfish. Begged for another smile to keep me company, another laugh to break the ice, another hug to last through this winter. I’m shivering in July. I can’t walk outside without the snow following me. We drove 8 hours to LA and the view outside the window was a harsh storm.

I tried to keep the Sun in my back pocket. Then it swelled. I struggled to fit it under my bed.  Again it swelled. I stuffed it into my closet, hung it up alongside my skeletons. But spring came and it began growing once more. I wanted to hold it back. I forgot that the Sun burns if you touch it. I remembered that I shouldn’t have gotten close. I closed my eyes,

Only to open them once again in summer. They sat aloof in the sky unaware I was praying for an oasis in the desert their scorch had fashioned. My skin coated in flames. Why do I still reach for it? I should let go before I turn to ash. Yet here I stand, feet freezing in an unshakable winter, my palms outstretched towards the fiery Sun.