Winter Crystals
This poetry collection has filled lungs
with crisp winter air,
it’s become easier to breath
with each puff of clouded air,
but winter crystals had started
to layer on tissues.
I’m scared that there will
be a moment where I’m wheezing
from crystals that had puncher lungs
and before long I’m suffocating,
dying from the air
that had once set me free.
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