we're looking suspiciously like a snow globe

The first time I rode a bicycle I became a stadium.  

                  A stadium with so many thousands of people that the cheering set of fireworks, and

                 the jumping up and down and smiling sent everyone home with hurting faces and sore feet,

      a stadium where the home team had just scored and the game was over and they had won.

I remember, because this was me until I hit the car.  

            And then the tombstones on either side and the starlight on the top side appeared, and 

            my kindergarten palms were bleeding and the thing plastered in stickers was on the ground 

and the only light to show it 

                                 was a lamp post and a bit of last-light from the west. 

Last night against my pillow I heard footsteps 

                    walking across my room

                                                                          at midnight

so loud in my ears that they walked through my heart, and my blood froze

and only then did it occur to me 

           that those footsteps were my heart. 

                                              

             and since then I've felt off, 
like I was jump-roping on my 6-feet-under and I can't shake that feeling...

The first time you rode an airplane you wrote your will 

              you were so sure your heart would give out that you settled your affairs and 

waited for the plane to crash, you probably wore your seat belt standing up and I'll bet you read every line in that airplane safety guide. 

I wonder when will life will get so cold that we can see our thoughts

             the way I saw my breath that night,  

surrounded by tombstones and shadows at dusk,

the way you saw yours fogging the airplane window 

before you closed it
because its hard to pretend your feet are on the ground when you're looking 20000 ft down at the Alps.                                                                                      

Your mother told you he is never coming back so you tried to never ride an airplane
                   because you knew you would do the same.

We're sitting in frozen chairs with desks attached,
and in frozen mountains and parks
in freezer-burnt towns that border farmhouses but there aren't any cities here. 

            We must have been frozen even before winter set in because I didn't noticed when the glass walls came over everything, I didn't notice the frozen sculpted falsity of this globe until last night, when I was tempted to knock and listen for the ring.
      but what stopped me was a stray thought asking
                                                                                               if this shell is a 2-way mirror.
We've been stapled and stuck together with hot-glue guns leaving transparent trails inside this snow globe that won't snow and 

                                                  we're stuck here in this silver that feels so cold

not because of temperature but because of the statues surrounding us.

The only question on my mind is why I can't see my breath. 

                                                                   

everett mills.