Windshield Wipers

On my way home,

It starts to snow.

It’s not cold enough to stick,

Just stays there in sprinkles across my windshield,

Melting into each other.

I let the droplets pile up until I can’t see anymore,

Like the tears that I can’t stop from pouring out.

I always find myself here,

Pushing myself to the breaking point

When I could have clicked on my windshield wipers at any time.

I’d rather swerve off the road,

Lose all footing with reality,

Than to use my goddamn windshield wipers.