too many long nights

Its too cold outside. the wind blows and wraps its arms around my cold embrace. I frown. My hair blows around, the flames in the ice storm. I speed walk, knowing I look ridiculous I slow my pace. The world around me looks so bleak. Somehow so dead since the Sun barely shines anymore. The leaves have died, and the the trees are naked. Remembrance of leaves crunch under my feet. Which hyperbole can I use there? None. The sound is indescribable.

I exhale, exhausted from my bones being attacked by unseen ice. The air around me fades as I breathe in. Struggling almost. This air is pressing on my lungs. How I wish for heat. The feel of the sun as it hits my skin through windows and glasses. Its comforting and in comparison to this air, its home. I long for home. The shelter of a time far away.

I began to run for spring. I search for it under rocks and in caves. The hot rain i miss, yet it seems not to miss me. I sigh and bury my face into my chest. I search for warmth that I know radiates from my skin. I sprint to class. Inside the room warmth reaches me. I walk to my seat. Late, as usual. Another strike against my record. I gaze out the window. I long for home.