I can really appreciate rainy days.
Sometimes the sun is too harsh
Or the snow too bitter.
Give me days where the clouds,
          like my eyes,
Are overcast and the fog,
          like my shoulders,
Hang low.
Something about bleak colors
Cold earth, speckled windshields,
That I embody.
Melancholy
Sympathizing with 
Worms drowning in puddles
Lacking the energy to save them.
Empty bottles kicked beneath feet
Only to be forgotten and left
Sinking in the mud
Indifferent to life and death.
On days like these
I imagine Mother Nature as
A girl in a hoodie
Walking through puddles
Headphones in
Music too loud
And probably a coffee in hand
Not to warm or wake her
But because caffeine is a drug
Required to keep herself moving.
On days like these
Stillness is equal to death
Physical or mental
the lines blurred
Not unlike the horizon in the fog.
On days like these
I can’t tell Mother Nature and myself
Apart.