I can feel my heart, if I try.

Dear Moon,

It seems as though days have passed yet the sun has not moved.

The snow is now thick upon the ground, my feet are wet and have long since frozen, but I slog through it none the less.

Each step gets heavier and heavier,

shorter and shorter,

and I barely seem to be getting anywhere at all.

It doesn’t matter.

As long as I can feel my heart, if I try.

Dear Moon,

It seems as though weeks have passed.

The sun is now on the horizon in every direction.

I don’t remember seeing it set.

Was it always this way?

It’s colder now,

windier,

and my body is frozen.

Still I walk.

Dear Moon,

There are no land marks now.

Nothing to determine the distance I travel.

Just a flat landscape of arsenic white everywhere I look.

It seems as though months have passed.

I do not remember the last time I saw the sun, or even what it looks like.

You light my path now, looming directly in front of me.

Beckoning me.

I am alone with the sound of my breathe as my breaking body carries me

to you.