Sundrop Thieves

Tags

adapting, depression, desperation, fear, generosity, invisible, jealousy, life, rain, suicidal, sun, trust

It rained for 34 years

A constant drizzle of dampness which permeated the soul

and dampened the spirit’s birth-right of light

knowing nothing otherwise

her soul and body adapt

figuring into a semi-fish like thing.

when she was submerged in water, she forgot the rain

and it was a kind of grateful joy.

She could see others in the sunlight- their sunlight

And she longed to join them, stand next to them long enough

To warm her wet scaly skin just a bit

But she knew.

She knew joining their sun would put out the light and warmth they loved so much.

So she learned to love

from there.

She couldn’t know envy or wish the light for herself.

It being something different for her

Just not a part of her world.

The only argument for community she had was a falseness –

Her gift to pretend she didn’t rain.

She grew accustomed to all the staring.

Onlookers with a strange look in their eye unable

To look away from the contradiction of such joyful sadness

As she giggled and danced – twirled in circles,

Laughing at the raindrops as though they were sparkly diamond pieces of the sun embracing her with their light and warmth

Exuding a spirit full of light and joy as though the sundrops not only glittered all over her,

but as though the sun itself shone just for her

She confused people. They witnessed the sadness in her eyes

like a tangible pool of black marbles, glassy and dark;

the very sad darkness she refused

Pretending, playing, loving the

Sun that wasn’t

And they wanted to steal her laughter, snatch her sundrops, and submerge themselves in her pretend lightness.

She was so convincing and confusing, they wanted to trade their sunlight that was for her sundrops that weren’t!

She didn’t know envy, she had no concept of greed, so she willingly shared…

…and that which she was unable to share,

that which was her very essence, her mere learned ability to pretend and maintain breath, they simply stole.

Until she became exhausted and her sundrops that weren’t slowly dampened and darkened again into the raindrops that were

And quick with anger and the vengeance of disappointment, suddenly the sundrop thieves of her sun that wasn’t called her crazy.

Then they could only see the sad, crazy soul she was.