Sunshine

I said no.  I said no again and again.  I said no and I did it anyway, again and again.  There is this pain that is associated with this sort of behavior that gnaws at the back of your mind.  It pinches you and goads you and finally wears you down.  You succumb to it and grow weaker each time.

The rain begins slowly in just a little drizzle increases to small little drops are a downpour.  Downpour.  But I’ve got to keep going.  I’ve got to keep moving, right?  You can’t stay where you are no matter what.  So I keep walking in the dark with an uneasiness, that pain gnawing.  The rain won’t let up and the road’s getting muddy.

Footfall after footfall.  Heavier with each step.  Heavier and heavier with each and every step.  There’s dirt and mud and there’s dirt and mud in my eyes.  Stumbling around and cars are honking people screaming.  Moving because I can’t, won’t, stay still.  What is it?  Where is it?  It’s out there.  They’re screaming at me.

This gnawing, this pain.  It’s fever pitch.  It’s controlling.  There’s something else, right?  Is there not something else?  The gnawing.  The dark.  The rain.  I said no.  I said no again and again.

Falling, there’s screaming, I hear crying.  No, I said no, but I did it anyway.  Jesus.

Jesus!

Forgive me?  Me?  Let you forgive me?

Sunshine.