Give Me a Rainstorm
I hope that one day
I will have a rainstorm.
To be soaked and washed away
Into something I can almost comprehend
Is my greatest desire.
If a sparrow was born in a star,
Where would it most want to reside?
I grasp the Sparrow's feathers-
My nails bluntly cutting into flesh
above hollow bones.
"I wasn't meant for this world" I whisper to the sparrow.
The sparrow's wings ripple with corded muscle
As they are slowly forced into aerodynamic obedience.
"Take me to a place where belonging is a state of mind"
The wind cuts my face ferociously,
All sound seeming as if it is being filtered through a cheese grater.
The sparrow's feathers grow around me.
My gut is engulfed with imploding.
To begin to recollect even a shred of memory
Turns back the gears of time.
To see her eyes break me down
Into nothing but raw purpose
To see him sitting there, gazing at the world
Through enchanted spectacles.
There are times when I wonder
If there is anything I could do
To build a bridge between my heart and my ribs
So that I could relate to the electric, angry bodies
Moving through that all-too familiar cylinder.
Being born into a world of expectation and truth
Is not the worst fate I could suffer.
My rope of logic
Is the only thing keeping me from going
So give me a rainstorm
So that I may
Make sense of all this
For if I was encased in wind
Every little thing would be simplified
For the better
Or for worse.