Love Is Like Wind Blowing Sand to Cover Hate

I don't know how long it will take for the cold winter to pass. I sit on the bed that is mostly wet. I miss the fox fur sleeves made by my mother and the gold-plated silver stove given by my father. My brother will put cotton clothes on my tree before winter comes. I wonder if it can withstand the cold this year. Intention: Entanglement between love and hate, dilemma