I keep going in circles, my thoughts are spiralling. Each word flows into the next, and just as I am about to reach a conclusion, it veers back into the loop. My brain has created this spiralling staircase: I can see the bottom, but I never seem to reach it. My thoughts go round and round and spiral over and over. My shoes slam against the marble as I walk lower and lower. I have tried to run, but that only seems to make the bottom further away. It is an ominous looking staircase, with its daunting rococo handrail looking gaudy and sharp. Its stairs are freshly waxed in hopes that I will trip and stay longer. Yet this staircase is not new to me and does not deter my thoughts. This loop may have ensnared me, but It must end somewhere. I bet one day, when the sky is bright, and the cold has faded from my bones, the spiral will stop. When I trade in my jeans for tan lines, I will have reached the bottom step of that staircase. But the ground is still frozen, and my nose is bright pink. The sky is still bleak, and the world is grey-
And as the snowflakes fall my thoughts spiral.