Blue Pine Cones

During times of wintry blizzards
fallen pine cones follow snow boots
like shadows seeking refuge to a house

that

stands

alone

within the middle of nowhere.

Placing the cone in my pocket,
its time to explore hidden
darkness as nature tries
to protect me from my own mind.

Solitary confinement within a world
that screams tragedy, while ripping
nails within padded walls; is a walk
I've taken often.

I see paint chips and tear stains
and it doesn't bother me anymore
because these memories are no longer
knives buried deep into chest-

they are words
onto paper.

I still have pine cones
in my pocket and I made it out of that house
alive....