My hands stutter and shake. They flake
falling apart like they never worked at all.
My voice stumbles, it tries to resonate with
the clouds in the sky, but it sinks to the
bottom of the ocean. I paint my face with
vibrant colors, trying to be seen. Yet, my smile
falters, my eyes water, and my nose twitches.
I sit on the floor, the concrete cold beneath me.
My hands touch and feel, they grab for the
blades of grass only to grab fists full of air.
The taste of the rain bitter on my tongue, coating
my insides. I shrink to my core, wanting
to disappear. I let myself break, crumble, and
shatter, wondering why it is only raining on me.
I stand on shaky legs, like a newborn giraffe,
waiting for my legs to support my reaching intent.
I grab the air, climbing it like a ladder, dragging
myself up. I shriek and wine, yelping like a
newborn for my lungs are too small for my body.
I run at the walls of my enclosure, my feet feeling
earth beneath me. I dig into the dirt, grounding myself,
waiting to pounce. I stand perfectly still, blending into
the corner. The walls phase in and out of reality,
mistaking me as harmless. I run once more.
My teeth grind together, my fists pacing at my sides,
my legs swift below me. The world blurring as it
moves past me. Shapes that once were objects
but now abstractions. The walls blend in to my
peripheral. My mouth tastes dry, my eyes sting
with cold wind, my ears ring and buzz, and my once
fetal lungs expand.
Here I stand proudly outside. The grass tickles my feet,
and the air is moist and sweet. The sun, for the first time,
shines on my pale and dry skin. I breathe with relief rather
than stiff gasps. I laugh with my true voice, unlike
my wails of pain. Dried trails replace my salty tears.
The world is warm and comforting, no longer in
its previous shades of cool.
