Drunk angels mope around Heaven,
Drunken angels pace around the stars
Depressed angels sit around Heaven,
Thinking thinking thinking.
Thinking about their sorry lot in life
Dwelling on it, getting more and more depressed,
Until it is finally too much.
And then they slit their
Ethereal wrists.
Divine suicide.

And snowflakes fall from the sky
Drifting in the ever present wind, falling lightly.
Frozen bits of glass falling down upon me, upon you,
Landing on my hat, my coat, my gloves,
So fragile. I breathe on them, just a light breath.
The slightest touch of warm melts them.

And snowflakes fall from the sky,
Covering me in the blood of angels.

—Jason Huff, Beaumont, TX