the cold furnace

hate takes up a lot of energy.

resentment.

ruminations.

it's a furnace fed by memory.

at some

point you shut it down.

go cold.

go numb.

let the wind run it's wintry

hands up

your sleeves,

your shirt, your pant legs.

you have to let the snow

bite

you, the ice sting.

you have to embrace 

the loneliness

and fear.

you have to feast on the love

of self

and get free from what was.

the fuckery of others.