Sipping my coffee as it rains, I feel the familiar pull of madness.

It is morning and the birds are singing.

The Sky is so darkly white with clouds I am sure the Sun has left me.

As the Wind blows, I wrestle with the urge to strip down naked, walk through the wet field, and feel the sticky sharp grass and wildflowers upon my legs and hips, as they leave marks and welts as proof of their unassuming strength. 

Within is the need to give my body over to the Elements and lay down as the Rain washes me until I shiver and finally fall asleep, lulled by a quiet death from exposure. Leaving my body for the animals and the Earth.

Staring out at my fantasy, I pick up my cup.

My coffee is cold.