Cold wind  blow down, icy to chill by soul.  I freeze as I watch the unthinkable take place inside my own 
mind.  Waves lap at beaches of granite too high to dive off of but why dive. I see no hear no speak no feel 
the whispering of a thousand voices within my skull never gone, only droning on and on and on forever.   
See my reflection on the breeze, blows away and I cannot catch it.  I do not recognize it anyway. Who is 
that in the mirror. I have never seen my face before.  Eyes nose mouth, am I not like all of you?  Prick me, I 
bleed. The hot blood of the living, yet my soul is ice.  I am the patch of blackened ice on the pavement no 
one seems to see but slips and falls.  And dies.  Is it my fault?  I am what I choose to be and I enjoy being 
a...