Icy rain hits my skin, mocking its sensitive nature.
The seasons are here, to divide us by who is most adaptable. I for one have not yet mastered the coldest and darkest of times. So I try to flee, with an emphasis on the try.
Fire and warmth may have given our ancestors comfort but to the spoiled nature of current Homo sapiens requires to be coddled. Physically and emotionally, harsh conditions seem to increase with shorter hours of light in the day.
Relating to content online, one finds themselves connected through shared burdens of others. In the end, the skin remains sensitive.
I am in the process of adapting, in the clouds and against the constantly blowing winds. Physical resilience is built over time but dammit, why does it need to rain so much?
I mistake the numb skin, frozen and lifeless, for increased strength. I think I have conquered this season. But as warmth touches the skin, I become aware that frozen skin still remains sensitive when heated up.