(Read in spoken word)
Snow days? More like *pause* NO days,
Coming in for extra *snap* summer days.
Two inches of snow, and now I know
I have to come in *snap snap*
On summer break.
Basically, if you didn’t understand my poem, I don’t like snow snow days. They take perfectly good summer days, for what? 80% of the time it’s only like three inches. Places in the Midwest get feet of snow and still show up to school. I’m starting to think Seattlites are just weak.
Snow days are insanely lit. After three and a half years slogging through endless labs, block history lectures, and in-class essays, I am left almost completely numb to the sensations of the world. The only thing that can make me feel anymore is the cold snow melting on my skin. When I was a freshman, I bundled up and ran outside to make snow people with my sister. I would wait for hours for her to open the door so I could hit her with the biggest and iciest snowball I could make. Now when I wake up in the morning and see snow outside, the rush is gone. Instead, I strip down to expose as much skin as possible without permanently scarring my neighbors. I then go outside and lie in the snow. The snow embraces me like nobody else can. I feel the ice flood my pores like a million pins and needles. I feel alive again. When I go back inside I take an ice cold bath to reacclimate myself with the temperatures of regular humans. I then resolve myself back to the emptiness of the real world as the snow melts and I must return to school.