The Wind

I can smell the wind.
It blows past me, I inhale it.
I digest it into my system.
While I sit here, feeling the hunger
From nights when I was starving for sleep,
I longed for the wind to carry me away.

The chimes sway and from far away
Comes the smell of marine life, carried by the wind,
Gently dropped in front of me. From sleep
Do nightmares come. I see the wind, I drowned in it.
An unhealthy drown. I hunger.
For a realism not of my own system.

In the cold of night I lay, in my system
I feel something is awry. I wish it away.
I wish it all away, my depression, angst, tears, fears, hunger.
I wish them away, to ride on the wind,
To darken someone else’s doorway. I see it,
The breeze that carried off my sleep.

Insomnia is the only replacement for my sleep.
But I want to sleep. I’m weakened. My system
Is weak. I don’t know how to obtain it.
I can’t keep turning away.
I can’t keep letting the wind
Carry my problems away. In me it depresses hunger.

I’m always tired of feeling a hunger,
Something that cannot be suppressed by food or love or sleep.
My emotions, they bend like trees in the wind.
Perhaps in another solar system,
Maybe there is a solution for me, far away,
Something that can cure me. I need it.

Sometimes, I don’t think I can take it.
This weather of emotion. Without it, I hunger.
With it, it takes me to a palace, so foreign and far away.
I disguise myself with counterfeit sleep
To avoid her angering system,
To avoid her reddening wind.

I’ve been through it once, or twice, lacking sleep.
What I got was hunger. What I got, polluted my system
And threw away all my chances of being soothed by the wind.