Sometimes It's Cold Outside

I've had a light jacket on for such a long time, I've forgotten how cold it can really be. Outside. Inside. Shine or no shine. But it's pretty cold, sometimes. Sometimes it's freezing, sometimes it's so cold your snot freezes as it dribbles down your nose and you look retarded, like Dumb & Dumber did on that stupid mo-ped. And sometimes it's warm and breezy.
Sometimes it's so cold outside your body becomes numb and you can't even feel it anymore and you feel tired. So very tired. All a body wants is to lay there and not feel the cold anymore. Shut the windows- shut out the cold. Sleep. Close your eyes. Shut the windows. Go home.
Light jackets don't last very long. The cold nibbles away at the edge- weaves in and out of that fine fabric dancing on the skin, chilling the bones. Light jackes tear easily, too. They're so light. One snag on one branch and suddenly the entire fabric rips away so violently so fast you don't even know it's cold and all you feel is stinging burning gnawing and you wonder what hurts so much so suddenly but the burning persists and you're so cold now so terribly cold you can't walk you can't stand you fall to your knees but you can't scream because you're so cold and you want to close the windows but you can't because you're so cold you can't move the sun will it ever shine again how can it if it's so cold?
And sometimes it's warm and breezy.
Sometimes the wind is so cold it nips at you pecks at you maybe it bites you with crooked teeth sharp as the sharpest of teeth and rips your flesh away rips your thoughts away maybe it blows so hard so ferociously maybe it blows your hope away your dreams your thoughts away maybe your life your soul away.
Or maybe it's a warm day and it's only a bit breezy.
Sometimes getting warm again hurts so much more than being cold. Sometimes you're so cold you're numb- no blood flowing, no passion no heart beating furiously to warm the limbs, joints stuck frozen rigid no blood flowing.
And sometimes it's warm and breezy.
Getting warm again hurts so much more than getting cold. Rigid cold bones aside a blazing hot fire so hot wood smoldering turning to ash aflame burning bright so hot it's too hot there's the wood look at it look at the logs that were once on trees big trees great trees I used to climb that tree I bet I'll bet somebody used to climb that tree look at it in the fire burning smoldering writhing and curling and look at it it's ash no it's burnt out it isn't full of life anymore there it is in the fire pit all burnt out but your blood's flowing now your heart's pumping again but it hurt didn't it I bet it hurt to be warm again.
Or maybe it's just warm and breezy.
Sometimes you may wish to shut your windows. Sometimes all you want to do is shut out that annoying breeze or maybe keep the cold out but you won't see anything if you close the windows will you? You don't want to miss that occaisional butterfly drifting on by you don't want to miss the flowers as they sit in the yard waiting for the sun waiting for the warm rays to light upon their simple tender petals so they might open and dazzle you with their warmth. You don't want to miss such pretty little things that keep you warm when you're warm if you're ever really warm.
But it's never warm and breezy, is it?
There never is time to sit, is there? Who can sit and watch the blossoms bloom the grass green who can ever sit and watch these things and love these things who can ever love who is ever warm truly warm? Has anyone time these days time enough to enjoy the passing of time?
If only the cold could be so cold as to freeze time. If only there was time enough for that; if only time had time enough for time but it's so cold all the time so warm and breezy sometimes perhaps time doesn't even have time.
If only it could be warm and breezy.
If only the cold were not as cold as to freeze the flowers over or to signal the end of all good things- like summer.
If only my jacket was just a bit thicker.