A stream of my Conciousness

Windy

I used to think I could control the wind

I'd twitch my fingers

And assume I made the tree move.

I'd talk to people in my head

Who I believed had it too

We had a club,

And of course I had a boy love interest.

A windy day

Is just a wind person having a mental breakdown.

I constructed this reality

Like astrology

So general there's enough coincidences

That you can gather enough together

That it must be true.

But I can understand why

That it wasn't a product

Of thinking I was special

Quite the opposite

It was the want of a community,

The need to able to express,

All the pain, hurt, sadness and anger

Without anyone ever knowing it was me.

Then maybe a special someone could figure it out

But they didn't even try.

I still love the wind

It changes the world around it:

To make a hot day more bareable

To make a frisbee game more comical

To make an argument more atmospherical

To make an angsty teen more expressible

Cause I think you could win almost every battle

With the wind at your fingertips,

And I think there's nothing wrong with feeling powerful,

Even if you need a reason why.

Notes:

I like this poem. I even invented a word for it. Atmospherical. I do think my poems are 3 times better read out loud. But I'm not sure how you do that anonymously. Which I'm very happy about. I'm not sure I could put out such vulnerable things not anonymously. The internet is too scary.  I wrote this in a park by the river and it was quite windy. Also played frisbee this week and it was awful with it being so windy. Hope you guys are having a good week.  I am now on Tumblr. Search:  Elephanttinabox/a stream of my conciousness