i can't remember
if it rained that day
but i do know
that it
felt
like rain
in my soul

it was
discouraging
to not be able to see the sun
yet
the rain somehow soothed

there was a time
so very long ago
when he was a child

the child that was me
was alone
he knew
he was alone

he knew he was different
he knew he was separate
he knew he would never fit
into a world
too loud
too bright
too crazed
too fast, too slow
at the same time

he knew he was a child of some other existence
a mistake, not of Nature, but of placement

there was a time he knew what it was to be a child
but that time was very long ago

he grew
and he survived
the only way he could
by erecting tall and strong walls

no one would penetrate these walls
no one would see his inner turmoil
no one would see his dark and lost tears

he would learn
to be
not content, but something that resembled contentment
he would learn to be comfortable
in the misery of his aloneness

as time passed
the wall sometimes weakened
he added bricks
strengthened the wall
replaced the mortar

bricks
of fantasy
of liquor
of cigarettes
of pot
of sex
of wanting
of escape
always escape
always escape
behind the wall

never
never
would anyone
be allowed
behind the wall
again

it rained that day
and I remember
wondering
if the rain would ever stop