Blue

Sponge

The sweet red sky lifted any winter hue that would have resonated. Freshly cut grass was a harsh smell. Not nice, nor bad.
But it stained my nostrils with peace.

It was afternoon, my family was probably sitting in their rooms doing nothing productive.
I wasn't there.
I couldn't see or hear them.
I just knew.

Surprises weren't a part of my family, the word didn't exist for us.
The feeling of a swayed heart, sudden excitement.
So when I sat alone in the park, I knew all that was going on.
And when the rain came I saw all that was wrong.

I liked rain, the urgency of its patterned sounds.
It was as soothing to the ears as it was to my skin.
It hardly looked like it was going to rain, the trail of clouds floating over were a slow process and grew slightly with my hunger for something more.
But despite the weakness in the clouds, it still rained.

I was a sponge, I took all that I could.
I stood in the rain and waited till I felt like Id rather be at home.
I knew it would never come.
The drops of rain helped me think.