On the outside of the snow globe I see into the world from the back of the cave I sit and observe. The ways I was living to now and today is far cried from chasing the hounds chasing game. I jump through the forests and into the plains to wash all the blood from my fashion of stains. I peaked and I plateaued more times than I know and found myself all alone in the snow. The blistering cold stings my lungs stings my face, but the whistling tree branches aren’t making space. I listen as my heart beat crawls to a stop and this pain I call living is free from my thoughts.