mountain, solid

A cold breeze is blowing through the doorway to my heart.
Fires that were stirring have all gone out.
Numbly I sit and try to wait out the cold,
alone, not in control,
this universe is teaching me of patience through pain
and solidity- I am a mountain,
words that bind me to the depths of hell,
but where is the heaven to warm these hands and toes?
There’s nothing right now but suffering,
and though I try to fill the holes with love and gratitude,
this uncomfortable longing yet remains.
Must I squash it out?

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