Home Again

…And just as quickly everything can change- as drastically as the first time I stepped outside and felt that I was home. The day I reached into my pocket and knew that I would find tinted yellow glasses, reminding me of a summer past that really hasn’t even left. I should have known right then. I was at the junction of two lives, as the bikes and trams and buses zoomed past, threatening to take at least ten times as many lives away. If I had reached into my other pocket, I would have found another pair of glasses. Red ones maybe, or blue. They probably would have been purple, and at the time I did not think to check, but now I know I knew. I know that I would let my hand gently graze my side to make sure they were there many times throughout each day (and I did)- as I glided and rolled through my golden world.

…And I wasn’t crying. Always- No, I wasn’t always crying. It rains a lot here. I like the rain- I love every drop on the yellow lenses that make golden globes that sparkle over my golden city. I love that it is always raining- it hides that I am always crying. Don’t look in my eyes- You can’t see them to read if I’m smiling.
Or know that I am lying…

…And everything gets so blurred, as the water begins running down the lenses, streaming down my face, and neck. I can’t see anything, and my city always disappears; my whole world just swirls around and away, and that is when, every time, one hand will graze my pocket in a perfunctory sweep, as my other hand listlessly, dutifully holds my glasses securely in place, fighting a fear of war to be waged against myself. My demons mock me, as I feel the heat rise inside; blood rushes to the surface of my skin. The other lenses were red, and they are superimposed on my purity. The cut is made. It is deeper this time. I am burned, and it is hotter this time. Sliced once more. Scalded. My blood is fresh, and it looks orange. The fire is orange, and the fresh burns blister up, fast, and orange. Everything is orange- and my body is screaming in agony…yet, I laugh, because in spite of it all, orange is my second favorite color- and it really is the little things…

… I am feeling smaller…and colors drain…angled, glasses slide: red on the side, to orange; then yellow offers a kaleidoscopic euphoria, into the canal…the canals are my favorite part, and I am back home.