Blizzard
The cold wind whips at my face,Each lashing stings me more,The ice clouds cut with tiny sharp spikes,And leave my skin red raw.There isn't anything I could have done,To stop being kicked out of the door,Except to realise earlier,That you loved me no more.The visibility is lessening,The skies grow darker still,It feels to me somehow,That this reflects your will.I should have noticed how it changed,Your tender kiss grew har...