Fuck You to the teacher in elementary school

who told us to describe a sound

or pick our favorite sound

or some bullshit like that

and when I said that I loved

the sound of snow falling

She told me that wasn’t a sound

and the whole class was confused

and everyone looked at me like I was

Crazy

and it stopped being my favorite sound

because getting in an accident in it at 17

made it scary

and my ears stopped searching for it in

every snowfall.

 

But fuck You, because it still is my favorite sound.

 

The snow fell last night; fat, white flakes

absorbing every other sound inside of it,

swallowing noises that have come to overload

my senses,

and it was Glorious.

This morning I stepped out in it, half an hour before

I even had to be anywhere,

and I walked along the slushy sidewalks--

because it was already starting to melt--

and the voices of the people down the walk

were hidden, kept secret by the snow,

and everything was soft and bright

and the sound of snow falling became my favorite

once again.

 

So fuck You to my education, and to our society,

for doing that with everything I’ve ever loved.

For doing that with me.

I finally love myself again

and my favorite sound is the sound of 

snow falling.