Oscillating between sunshine and storms, my mood matches the weather.
My eyes are tired – oh, so tired – but my brain is not.
I don’t peddle, but momentum hurls me forward.
Everything around me blurs, onethingafteranothersoquickly that my mind can’t keep up.
Minutes seem like moments, yet seconds turn into days.
The heavy clouds burst and fat drops splat on the ground.
And my own fat drops roll down my hot cheeks.
I don’t even try to hold them back.
As quickly as it began, it ends.
For her, but not for me.
And I laugh at myself for being jealous of her, our Earth.
Smoke rises from the ground, hot earth mixed with cool rain.
Dampness dances on my skin, leaving me uncomfortably sticky.
I want to crawl into bed and read a book and wait for the storm to pass.
I just wrote Just Write and realized it was Wednesday, not Tuesday.
But my heart-soul doesn’t know that it’s a day late.