Seasoned

Just found this while cleaning out my bedside table =)
Dated April.09/08 11:00AM

Outside, in the spring air, I can't breathe.
The sun is shining too brightly.
The gentle breeze is abrasive.
I wait for summer to arrive in
It's temperamental glory.
The way it will expose the raw bits;
The edges of skin that are shrinking too slowly.
Hiding from its rays is a futile effort -
An activity of pointlessness.
People everywhere are removing pieces of themselves,
Letting the sun soak in
Where the freezing winter once took its place.
And though it was brutal, it was protective.
Not so honest, so vulnerable.
Not so needy and vile and hot.
Not so much like the thing I am running from.