I am Queen of the mountain.
I run in the forest, swift and silent. I am covered in warm pelts.
The snow is falling, slow and gentle.
It’s cold and I want to die.
There is warmth, just out of my grasp, I run harder, faster. I can never seem to reach the warmth that lies outside of me.
There is a blizzard on the mountain side, I stumble and twist my ankle.
I lay in the snow, sweat chilling, the heat of my body escaping.
The heat evaporates off my skin, taking pieces of my soul with it until my breaths come shallow. I lay in wait.
This is the landscape of my soul.