The forecast called for sunny skies
but it’s been raining for days;
humid afternoons smother
and in foggy morning haze,
then again tomorrow
overcast crushes in waves.

Skies, grey, accumulate,
burden of their thoughts precipitates;
an army of soft blades penetrating, drains,
desiccating stamina and strength,
exsanguinating blood in puddles from veins;
weeks are dragging teeth, serrate
as I’m crawling through the month of May
and all I have to say is
every dawn that I awake
is just another chance to be afraid
when I am already struggling to tow
this great nameless weight, in pain;
I’ll be lucky if I make it through the day okay
or if something of myself still remains.