Into The Open Air

The wind is harsh against my skin, cutting deep yet I do not bleed. I walk forward through the pain I feel, just trying to endure. She has the same eyes. Each step is tough and my feet are bleeding. My breath hurts my insides while the cold hurts the outside. I am still walking. She has the same laugh. He's right there in front of me, warm and inviting. Is he real? His hand thaws my own, his kiss calms my breath. This must be what death feels like. Though maybe it is time for some rest.