Yellow Mama E zine

RAIN

 

by Maddisyn Condora

 

 

It fell to the ground,

shattering into a trillion pieces,

like some cheap champagne glass,

too many tiny shards

to pick up by hand,

grabbing the biggest ones,

slicing your hands open,

blood falling,

hitting

the floor,

sweeping the rest under the rug,

hoping somehow

they'll just disappear,

but you know they won't,

they never do.

They just remain there,

waiting,

almost plotting,

eventually

finding their way out

to wreak havoc later on,

patiently waiting to strike,

when you least expect it.

 

The blood is now

pouring from the open wounds,

no more little drops.

You'll deal with them later,

you tell yourself,

as you grab a bandage

in an attempt and in hopes

it will stop the bleeding,

but no,

it doesn't stop the bleeding,

doesn't even slow it down,

just masks it for a while.

 

You feel the sharp edges

cutting deeper and deeper

into your fleshy wounds,

being forced in deeper, and

causing more damage by,

ironically,

what you are using to stop,

the wound from bleeding.

 

tears start to fill your eyes

till they're completely full,

like a rain cloud

finally releasing the pressure,

your tears are falling

rolling down your cheeks,

down to the floor

like the rain hitting the window outside,

crashing to the pavement.

 

But you can't let anyone see,

so you wipe your tears

and run out the door,

in some faint attempt

to hide your pain,

into the dark,

cold,

and pouring rain

you go,

no idea or plan on where you're heading,

you just need to escape,

the prison of your own mind and pain,

even if it’s just a temporary fix,

which it always seems to be.

 

The blood is now

seeping through the bandages,

the pain is worsening,

your hands are throbbing,

covered in blood, and glass.

 

In the distance,

you see people,

rushing to get out of the rain,

into their homes,

where it’s bright,

warm,

and dry.

But you,

unlike them,

aren't rushing

to get out of the storm,

you have no desire

to be locked up inside

.

The tears fall again

but this time

you don't hide them,

you just let them fall.

Freely.

Shamelessly.

they're falling

just as hard as the rain.

 

It’s dark,

cold,

lonely

out here in the storm,

no smiling faces,

no cheerful laughs,

no meaningless fake hellos,

or smiles from strangers.

anyone out

is too busy

trying to get where they're going.

But that doesn't bother you;

in fact, it’s more comforting

than being inside,

safe,

warm,

and surrounded by people,

having to keep your pain hidden.

 

It’s getting colder,

the rain is getting harder,

the drops sting your face,

the thunder

is roaring

like an angered beast

out for revenge,

as you look up

the sky is lighting up

in the most beautiful,

and scary, yet charming way.

 

While most people

are hiding

in their homes

trying to escape the storm,

here you are,

embracing every second of it.

 

Like some lunatic,

you find yourself smiling,

laughing,

the tears have finally stopped,

your hands still wounded and bleeding,

the bandages soaked and stained,

but

they’re numb from the cold,

as the rain keeps falling,

washing away

the blood and tears,

you feel a sense of calmness,

understanding,

almost happiness.

In the midst of all

the danger around you.

It was FREEDOM.

 

Like the moth is drawn into a flame,

its ending is tragic,

you also needed

to set yourself on fire

to feel alive.

 

It was then that you found your peace.

 

 

     

 

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