As the wind picks up and I hear the windchime.
I can smell the rain,
floating on the air.
See the sky as a dead pigeon lightly spackled with blue.
As the thoughts come over me I realize,
I am alone.
Wanting to be whole, hoping to be included. But I am different, not here nor there.
I am not committed enough to be put into a box!
I am screaming now, as tears run down my face.
Washing away the pain of yesterday, sweeping the mess I just made under the rug, in hopes of conquering it another day.