you can't force it. you can't threaten the spring to come and melt the ice and snow. for that pond to return to messy liquid, you have to let it come.

you can't catch tears falling from sad sad eyes. you have to let them fall and soak the carpet. to stain the shag, just let it come.

and for what it's worth, this coffin is no longer a coffin. these cold dreams are nothing worth dwelling on but rather something to look back on.