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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 -
 explode.
 
 smashing my glass
 and listening to it trickle
 to the ground with the rain,
 sparkling,
 glittering,
 scintillating,
 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.
 
 only...
 I don't know if you read the obituaries.
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