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if only it was thundering
the windows are barred
with the criss-crossed screen
and I feel trapped – even with it open.
sweet green air leaks in through
the cracks and the scent of
sky stained water tickles my nostrils.
but a taste isn't enough,
I want to drown in it,
to suck it in and never have to breath out
again, keeping freedom bottled up
inside this heart until it cakes
and corrodes my arteries with pollution,
so I have to -
smashing my glass
and listening to it trickle
to the ground with the rain,
the world with reflected light and beauty.
(a million mirrors.)
I would let the rain pour onto my history laden floor
washing away memories, scum, and
worn-out stuffed animals.
drenching my face and hair
till the make-up and lies wash away
from my skin and eyes.
cascading downward to the concrete below my window.
droplets dripping down my cheeks as opaque
lyrics from my hair-line smudge my eyeliner even more.
this is the description of me.
But it's all too much – or maybe it's not enough...
either way I don't think I'll reach enlightenment
unless I take a leap of faith, and hope the robin will catch me
and whisper words of wisdom as I fly on it's back
to serenity. (let it be...)
with my luck though the bloody bird will fail me
and the bloody contents of my brain and heart
will decorate the walk-way to my green door.
I don't know if you read the obituaries.