let's

Squint against the cold
And feel your eyes smart,
Wet with brushing wind, weather tears fall.

Needle fingertips hold the rail
As a rush of smoke to the head makes you dizzy.

Getting up in the morning doesn't always go as planned
Sometimes I don't want to get up.
It's not even that I want to stay in the warm.
Sometimes I don't want either.

And as the cold of the rail pushes against the skin warm pads
palms lose grip and maybe I'll fall.

Pretend the tears are real and fake the catharsis.
Cry for the feelings left in sleep, unreachable now woken.
Now in the morning fuzzy thoughts and freezing hands.

Let's not.