Like a rain of glass shards.
Raining right down on me.
Hitting my bent over back as I stay crouched down in a small corner.
My skin tingling under their sharp, pointed ends. My eyes blinded by their brightness. My nose taking in shallow breaths of moist, cold air. My lips quivering slightly. My teeth digging into my lips from the prickling pain.
Dangerous but beautiful.
Lethal but seductive.
Painful but necessary.
I bare the pain as tears start welling up in my eyes. I blinked and let the tears flow down and trace the gentle features of my tired face. I know that I can walk away. I can turn my back to the rain and run to places where the rain clouds cannot find me. But the fatigue is drugging my body and I stay still as the bullets of glass fall onto me.
Bright lights reflect into my eyes and sting me. Burning my eyeballs and blinding my sight. But I keep my eyes open – wide open – to take in all that I can.
I am willing myself to never wake – taken in by the innocent beauty and the prickling touch. I want to learn. Embrace the darkness of my mind. Explore the hidden staircases and unpack the sealed up boxes in my heart.
What is a little pain and risk in life?
To be constantly safe is not living and we all know that a little too well.
Because the glass rain is my thoughts and the light is the reality that I refuse to see. My legs can no longer carry me. I cannot keep running because the weather will catch me and the glass rain will hit me again, again and yet again. Getting heavier and heavier.
I am not ready to do this. This is not the right time. Maybe next time.
But the night has come, and I am a liar no more.
I know that I will never be ready. There is no ‘right time’ for anyone and everyone. Next time simply does not exist.
I stand up carefully in my corner and slowly, open up my arms and face the sky.
Soaking in the rain, understanding the pent up feelings washing over me and looking forward to a brand new day.
Because I am as ready as I will ever be.