i picture you
in your inner glow,
all luminescent
in the arms of snow

are you cold
under the ground?
can you hear
the echo of my sound?

i've been here
can't tell for how long
but it's not easy
to leave where i belong

baby, i'm here
'n' i refuse to let you go
so if i close my eyes
will i hear you tiptoe?

tiptoe back here
right into my soft arms
for i fear the snow
as i know, it never warms

Author's Note

Listening to 'Snow' by Jome. Initially, I named this poem 'Tiptoe' but then I changed it to 'Snow' because this sad song deserves the credit for inspiring me. =)

This poem is about death. That's all, I guess. :')

Much love,
Hazel ❤