A hell constructed of ice and snow

"This is not my heaven! This is my hell!" cried my voice so despairing, so desperate inside my own skull. I want to get up. I want help. I want to make things better. I want to create rather than war with myself. She said it's fine. She says she loves me. Her words echo in my brain from the last time we spoke. I am back to lying in the snow and ice. I don't care to die. I don't care to live. I don't care at all. No..that's a lie. I do care. I'd just rather not. Little white flakes flowing from their skybound home make their way down to the earth. They fall on my face in attempts to bury me alive, attempts becoming very well executed success. And I am bound here. Still to the ground. Who will pick me up and brush off my wings? Even if they are simply spiritual. My wings are pinned to the ground, icy needles never ceasing. Never letting up. Helpless, hurting, hell. My eyes hurt. My nose is frozen. My fingers have become like sticks attached to my hands and the rest of me, numb.
I had ventured off into the snowy lesser known of my backyard to take photographs of the world in two different dimensions. Apparently, walking out without a torch is hazardous to one's health, for I slipped and fell and now I am here on the ground once more. After one too many falls, my spine tingles and I know it is not a good sign in the least. I cannot get up and no one is here or within earshot to come to my rescue. Darkness disturbs me now. I am frightened, like a child, but with not a soul to care for me. I cannot help but feel abandoned. The ones I trusted the most pushed me far away
And with good reason too. Am I to be trusted anymore? I don't know, I've yet to make an assessment. 

 Where is the sun? Where is anyone?

Take my arms that I might reach out to you!

How can I reach out if I am down? Nearly impossible. As I lie here freezing to death, my candles finally snuff out. Dead. Dead like winter. Dead like earth. Dead, like me. Or dying, at least. I know this because my life plays out as a film in my mind's eye. Childhood memories, bittersweet. Or what I lacked in a childhood. My stepfather and his heinous behavior toward me. Reliving the darkest time of my life makes me wish I could cry  again. Best of friends that come and go. Suitors desiring my attentions. And then Deirdre appears, and I recall swinging beneath our tree named Muse and singing to the trees around us as they listen attentively to our conversations. I remember being nearly chased by a homeless man and our silly little girl adventures. I remember trekking out in the snow with my dove and finding solace in a cage of all places. I see us in my room and me speaking to her as she falls asleep on my chest kissing her forehead like a mother, holding her like a lover. Being her protection. Loving her with all I am and even here I love her still along with all the ones I love and have grown to love. All those precious and dear to me that have fled because I pushed them off for reasons of my own. All the hearts in my hands that I have sliced open. Cut after bloody gash. Beside me I feel a gigantic creature. A heavy breathing cat, who's growl penetrates my ears and I am frightened. How he returned and found me, I do not know. Hell, I don't even know if he is real or my subconscious's conjurings.The lion I loved so dearly, my friend and lover, I beat him and he bore his claws and struck me in return and has returned to finish the job. I feel the pain now from his beating all over and my body convulses. I see him and a blur of red and he rips me to shreds. His claws tearing through me, I feel nothing but anguish. He doesn't look me in the eyes once. He keeps his eyes completely averted. I caught a glimpse of them before he left me the first time. Cold, broken, unkind. I have made him unkind. I have struck him and now he tears me apart in return. My vocal cords are frozen stiff, so screaming is not an option. Even if it were, I wouldn't. I deserve it. I deserve this..I deserve this..

I feel his presence leave me, leaving me to bleed out as he has finished I deserve this, I deserve this. I'm sorry. Take what you will, what you will and leave. Could you kill, could you kill me? He couldn't even be courteous enough to do away with me. He had to leave me here to die in the mess I made for myself. A mess it grows.. I had told Deirdre once. 

I am no longer me. My hair has grown out, mangy and unattended. My nails to claws. My eyes blood red from lack of sleep and insanity's grip. My voice so altered, unrecognizable. Who could love something so hideous? Something so horrid..

The world turns black before me and I feel myself being cradled. My senses paralyzed, so by whom, I cannot tell. All I know is by the warmth of their body, I know they are a comfort, and let myself be swept away by the cold and snow and the whimpers, almost like a child's as this person/creature holds me in their lap and as I black out like the stars again, I mumble this:

Take what you will, what you will
And leave. Could you kill, could you kill me?
If the world was on fire
and nothing was left but hope or desire
And take all that I could bring forth, is this hell
Or am I on the floor over-desperate?
Hold hands streaming of blood again?
And then take full weight of me
Guard my dreams, figure this out,
It's me on my own. Helpless, hurting, hell
Will you stay strong as you promised?
Cause I'm stranded and bare.
Meanness is washed up in all that I am
is God. Take this and all,
Then grace takes me to a place
Of the father you never had
Ripping and breaking and tearing apart
This is not heaven
This is my hell