you want my view of the snow?

The snow drifts into our zombie mouths, 

crawling with grease and cursing and tobacco flakes 

and cavities and boyfriend/girlfriend juice, 

the stain of lies.

For a moment, we are not failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays:

We are crayons and lunchboxes and swinging so high our sneakers could punch holes in the clouds.

For one breath, everything feels better.

Then it melts. We walk away, and forget everything. We eat and talk and cuss and smoke and kiss. We lie. 

we act like our definition of normal, and forget everything we've been taught.