The problem with adverbs.

My body shakes from the cold.
It is distracting and unpleasing.
Hoist up those pants and keep walking.
Clutch to your own parable body, letting out secrets of lies and shames.
A stampede of abandoned streets charge behind me.
They are not kind, but familiar.
Like your milk man, a father.
A face that harms and comforts.
Only half that face is past down.
Harm.
I harm with my frost bitten face.
Winter streets, I am a killer.