Friday, July 7, 2017

...a ghosted summer rainy breeze

Some people come into your life like a storm -- they blow in unexpectedly like the turbulent angry rainfall that drenched my slightly greasy braids on this Friday. Like dark clouds that unexpectedly release their  inner dirty demons into and unto your newly pressed jacket, your dirty sneakers and your eggshell-framed life. Those are the people you expect least, the ones who thrust their messy shit onto you, rain on your soul and your clean neat, sharp lines like disgustingly sickening toxic waste. Why you let them in and why they are allowed to stay there - that is the question, though. Rain rain go away, dirty sneakers, make your way... toxic people - why rhyme. These are the people whose clouds and bubbles should be popped and emptied far away from you, their auras toxic, their presence contaminated, like the silicon-encapsulated pesky packages at the bottom of a shiny new toy. They toy is shiny white and new in its pristine box.. only ruined by that stupid poison-filled pellet. "Caution, do not eat." Okay, I won't, and I don't. The stormy people are like poisonous-silicon filled dark clouds, raining on the parade of your new toy in your new box. Extract them like the rotten-infected tooth that plagues your little cherub cheeks; throw their dirty auras into the nearest puddle and be careful not to splash it around. 

Yes, some people come into your life like that - they turn the blue sky dark and don't blow over until the storm wreaks havoc on all below it.

Some people, though, they come in differently, like the softest lightest, moisture-free breeze blowing over your fresh face in the spring. Like that luxurious air that feels so delicious and crisp, you swear you could bite into its ripe beauty. That air that caresses your newly washed hair as you sit in the front seat of a convertible, wiping your aura and soul clean with a white air-eraser on a yellow school pencil. Swish, all is good once again. Some people are that air, they softly and sweetly smile at you with their eyes and their hearts, and wash over you with love and joy. The air that brings light that sees the light in you, through even your thickly clouded, leather-bearing exterior. These are the people who neutralize the turbulence, the blonde bangs of the sun that re-light the flickering bulb of your rusty heart-shaped lamp. 

The air is thick, the clouds dense, and the soul deep. The wind can blow in all directions, grabbing dirty jagged-edged particles in its moody unpredictable path and throwing them at your face. The turbulent storms cease and the sun inevitably comes up again, whether hours after the storm, days, or years. The sun cannot stay idle forever, the air and wind are strong enough to carry heavy loads for only so long before they break. The air and the soul run deep and dark, then run light and low. And dark and deep and light and low and back and forth and around again. The full circle of the merry go around escapes my unmanicured finger tips once more. 

The people that come in and out of your life are the wind, the rain, the air and the fog of the earth of your soul. They bounce in and out, sweep across your sweet and salty Scorpio face, contorting it upside down and right side up. human people are the salt and the sand of the cells of your soul and they polish and taint it, breeze in and out, mess up your fresh blow out, revive your lamp, lift your spirits and crush you into a shrunken pepsi can on the dirty new york sidewalks. they do all of this. and yet still, she persisted, though she be but little she is fierce and all the instagram quotes in the world to end this loosely flowing stream of dirty rain water thoughts on this steamy, humid, cloudy, bright day.

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