With the Snowfall

You left again.

You left, and I was okay.

I almost wanted to stay here, with you gone.

Months went by, new seasons, new cycles, new memories, new bonds.

I let myself get used to being grounded here again,

Then you came back.

You came back soft at first.

Slow, easy.

Your presence was light enough that I almost craved you.

Almost.

Then you came back.

Without warning, I saw you again.

No longer soft, not bright, not easy.

You took my control, my hope, my calm.

There is no calm when you're here, although you wear the word proudly.

You come back with your false peace, a new start.

Then you come back.

Dark, hard, fast, you throw me into you.

I push myself back out, changed, shaking.

For months I lie awake as you collect yourself softly again outside my door.

Then you leave again.

I want to leave.

I can't be here when you come back.

In eight months, I'll almost forget,

Then you'll come back.