Hypothermia

I came to see the snow. I didn't know it would be this cold. I wanted to bask in it, wrap myself up in its arms til the cold stopped being cold and burned. It hurts so good. But I'd rather it just didn't hurt at all. I wish I could light the fire in front of me instead of soaking the wood in icy chill. I wish there was that spark. But there isn't. And I'm here in the middle of the white-out. Frost bitten.