I feel like it's snowing when I open the door and look up the staircase. I don't think it is, but it's what you're sending me. Black snow.
The two of you have put your heads close together, and with lowered voices I can hear the poison coming out of you. You're laughing at me when I'm not looking.
I feel like it's my punishment for the trust I try to pretend I have in you both.
You stare down at me with dead, yet hateful eyes. Like you've built us up for this moment to arrive.
For me to break.
Then I wake up.