Acid Wash

I can feel the heat rising around me through the blue-dim haze. As I sit in the covered walkway, my heart beats faster and faster and slowly quickens to terrific stillness. Opening my eyes and looking through the slits framed by their lids, I squint at the world I hate. The world I loathe. I breathe the anger from my heart and I writhe in the heat radiating off my sweat-glistened skin. They are not like me. There is no one like this. There is no one. I shiver with energy and my mind screams at me to run. I run. The rain pours over my body, striping me of my feeling, of my emotions. This rain is toxic, acidic, cruelly mocking like those who surround me. So, I decide to stand with still sadness to sense my soul. I whimper with the washing of my wickedness and I kneel to the dirt that is sodden with the transgressions of humanity, laying my face upon its surface with closed eyes. I listen to the cries of the pure and feel the hope that slightly fades each second. Carefully I cup a handful and hide it away from the acid wash that pours from the envy-green clouds. I know what I must do. I know they must be saved.