My Musings on Winter.

It snowed today.

I don't know if today was the first snow,

 but I know I almost died twice when my car drifted.

Today I became an insect.

You see, insects are much smarter than us.

They wear their bones on the outside.

Ours are inside.

We are just more

stupid,

fragile,

susceptible to love.

I sat by the fireplace today.

I drank hot chocolate today.

The fire warmed my exoskeleton

but the hot chocolate went right through the cavity in my chest

and made my stomach warm

and my throat burn

and my mind race

and it only lasted a moment.

A moment as fleeting 

as your warm embrace.

Yes, that melodic, euphoric embrace.

The painfully short one.

You are justified though.

It probably hurts hugging someone with their bones on the outside.

It probably hurts even more loving someone with their bones on the outside.

According to Darwin, I'm smarter right?

Survival of the fittest, yes?

Maybe I should become a bear tomorrow.

Hibernate.

Skip Winter, and the cold that comes with it.

But I became an insect to protect me from this weather.

Then why am I using these bones to protect my heart?

Because if you can't touch my bones than you can't hurt my heart.

But I can't seem to figure out why the fireplace

 can't warm me the way your skin does.

Or all the hot chocolate in the world

Even with marshmallows

Couldn't satisfy or comfort the beating heart under my bones.

I am evolution! I am efficient!

If this Origin of Species,

if this is surviving,

Then why can't I shake this feeling from my bones that 

 this insect isn't alive at all

because I am devoid of that look in your eye,

 that energetic, life-filled gaze

that vibrates my senses

and makes me feel.

Perhaps Darwin was wrong.

It's not about who has longest life span

or the best chance at reproducing.

It is about drawing with your crayons

and making yourself worth introducing

and your personality seducing

and listening to the hearts that do sing.

Because choosing to be human

and losing the insect

Erases confusing assumptions

and abusing regrets

My Musings on Winter.