I find solace in the quiet,
And see comfort in the loss.

I need to sit and contemplate with my own thoughts.

I'm easily persuaded
Then my mind gets all mixed up
I like it better lonely, it's being together that's tough.

I've watered this garden for ages
Yet nothing ever grows
I've consulted botanical mages
They haven't the time for my trivial woes

I've pruned with bloodied fingertips-
Soil so stubborn, refusing to shift
I've given every pamphlet a flip
Still no signs of a horticultural gift

Just a little too much
to overfill a glass,
not quite enough
to fill up the pitcher.

Dripping down the sides,
an ever-messy lover,
yet spiraling in panic
when I’m spilt on the floor.

Whether the rain revives me,
or the sun dries me up—
I don’t fit anywhere
I want to.

I'm walking in the rain.
My hair is wet.
My clothes are drenched.
I'm not running.

I'm walking in the rain
With no umbrella,
Pulling a suitcase
Of baggage I can’t seem to get rid of.
There’s mascara all down my face.

I'm walking in the rain.
The thunder is loud.
The lightning is blinding.
The wind tries to push me fast—
But I'm walking in the rain.

It's a wonderful thing to love,
And to be loved,

But how terrible it can be,
To love,
And to be loved.