Cold Ash hero

A match flickers inside the steel box, Smoke curling like whispered regrets. The frost on the glass hides nothing, Except the eyes that refuse to blink.

Knuckles tap the wheel, Cracks spreading across bare skin, And the silence chokes harder Than the half-lit cigarette.

Outside, the snow keeps falling, Covering the wreckage of yesterday, While the engine idles— A heartbeat no one’s listening for.