told me about rain
that might turn to snow
which might turn to pain in my knees,
it might turn into wishing for summer
(summer is always you lying on couch tired
cursing gods for seasons you hate),
it might move my hands towards the pills
that rarely save anyone needing saving
(i really don’t trust pills
if you are not the one handing them to me).
today’s forecast tells me i should stay in,
stay away from stepping out of myself,
that in my world only minefields of you are remaining.