Frozen Hands

The pain it is
of thawing these hands,
thawing these frozen
helper's of plans,
the pain fails
to subside,
to fall down,
unlike my pride.
It just steps
briefly from
freezing now,
but far from done.
Now the cold
turns to hot,
the burning too much
to be fought.
The heat is
more intense
than cold from
past tense
as temperature's
fierce intensity
points in my face
and laughs at me.
Time may take
this pain away
but it can't
in time to stay
so leave I must,
end this race,
to meet my eternal
resting place.

The Day's Heat

It is so hot in here
and everywhere else I go.
Whether the sun is on me or not,
I cannot escape the effects of its glow.
My skin is moist with the condensation
caused by my body's overheat
that occurs almost every day now
escaping this temperature is my only longing feat.
I briefly complained in the cold,
complaints I would happily take back
if only I knew at the time
what would shortly follow in the form of a flaming attack.
My feet stick together
as they simply draw near to one another
like Siamese twins that cannot
ever escape the presence of their own brother.
My clothes that I cannot currently shed
but wish more than anything that I could
stick to me so much worse than
the termites on their evening's dinner wood.
My focus on whatever task may arise
swiftly leaves me without a chance
of completing whatever may be my duty
before I can even gather a glance.
I search out of my current box
to find comfort in a cooler setting
only to discover that hunt is futile
as my pours continue their uncontrollable sweating.
My mind's paralysis stays with me
as ideas to break through this stage
flee from my brain so quickly
I don't have the slightest chance to engage.
The day's heat has sucked the life
out of a being that felt so much just weeks ago
with no tool but a ball in the sky
and a discomfort turned debilitation that will only grow.