Stirring

The stirring of emotions just twisting up inside.

I am hoping this storm doesn't swallow everything this time.

Creaking cage of hidden doors, this joy is stirring the knobs and I hear those memories hitting the floor.

They start the running up and down my mind, just more stirring from birth to death and back again.

I can't help wondering when this will end.

It's kind of strange tearing down these masks, only to see any empty mirror in front of me haunted by the light.

I hope to keep walking but somehow I know that I won't leave a single footstep behind in this snow.