Tracing missteps in the snow, 
led astray by the glimmer of streetlights, 
meant to guide the way home, 
it is too late once I realize, 
this path takes me away
from myself. 

A ticket for a train,
bought by a stranger, 
gives me hope of finding my way, 
yet I am a helpless passenger,
as the switch is frozen in place, 
my sense of direction fades. 

Wobbling and worried, 
I look for the brakes,
to stop this wild ride to nowhere, 
though no one understands my panic,
I silently scream to the closed window,
watching as the snow shrouds the world 
in a white cloak of cold nothing, 
blighting me.

I sink into my seat
and wait
until the motion slows, 
and I can take the back exit, 
off the beaten tracks. 

When I finally breathe again, 
the crisp air of winter, 
I know it is not the snow I should fear, 
but the erasure of my self,
through the inability of you to hear
my heart, while side by side, 
on your path.

Ahead of me, 
no footsteps in the snow, 
but patterns I do not recognize,
a blank page,
the chance to step out 
on my own.  

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