Living in the memory

Distortion

Powerful gusts of wind shake the trees,
A piercing ray of sunlight shines at the light corner of my eye.
The grey clouds loam over this school,
Crossing through the change of weather, an invisible and most likely beautiful bride.
A freezing rush of flurries, swarm around me, a freezing rush, a coldness that coats my fingers tightly like (laytex?) Gloves..
A swarming, suffocation of pressure makes my arms shake uncontrollably on this desk.. Keep shining Sun before the darkness devours my world, I dip, I am engulfed, a mixture of chemicals in my brain? No drugs, nothing like that, but there is something there pulling me down.. Dragging me, yanking me from those beautifil clouds, that golden fortress.. I have so many questions I could ask him. He is listening but there are no ripples no matter how much I splash in this oily water. Rainbows reflect off of that oil, a fake beauty.. My legs fail to stand when crushed by this anxiety. Which direction can I swim? How far? This repetition I so desperately cling on, a correction everybody else has.

My learning disability.
Is it the anomaly?
No,
What else is there?
A shadow, I mimic people.
I do what interests me,
But its not good enough in my eyes.
It's not as beautiful as the world around me.
What can I do that's  beatiful?

Relax, once again..

I hope it is soon.

To bask in that light and float along the storm, this river with warm and cold currents. The fish that would swim in that water, I bet they are beautiful.

If I look into my reflection,
I see some beauty,
Not It's never repetitive,
It's different each time I look at it.
Just like the world, nothing is the same for long but...
There is always a beauty.

Maybe one day I can be more like the trees, my peeling skin would be bark, my stressed hair would be the branches, uncontrollable beauty.. I would be grounded and it would be right.
Just how he intended nature to be.

Right

Golden flavored hoops, almost arches. A binder that holds these pages together.

I look up,
Blue,
Purple,
And almost grey covered sky as the sun sets, earlier.
Brushing gusts of cold winds, blocked by this glass, this dark frame. I can almost feel it, almost..
The crappy air conditioning of this school inmates that wind, the feeling of it against my face and gently, softly touching my eyes.. A false beauty humanity made. A false copy, not like the real thing.

I don't leave my house much.. But I love the outdoors when it welcomes me through its gates.
Flooding my world in beauty,
So many colors,
Temperatures and wonders.

I'm hungry with a craving for clams, warm buttered and steamed clams on pasta.
I can imagine the warmth from the plate on my fingers, the dirt in the small pockets of those clams. Nature, is truly wonderful.

I can't wait to go home.