Crystal Dawn - Winter

I crack eggshells every time I move my cursed tongue.
I open my fated doom every time my brown souls cast
Themselves upon another mustache.
Men are snowflakes-
Each intricately different
As they melt on my tongue.
But, every crystal turns sour on my taste buds.

Why do I even go out to savor the winter?
Only my ratted, wool pain keeps me warm,
But the chill is hotter out there
Than it is in here.

Crystal Dawn

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/winter-31/