That’s the complication of staying up at these early hours of the morning.
These early hours are when your mind is most naked, when your heart is bare, and your body numb. You hear the rain pouring down, and you look outside your window, and stare at the droplets falling, you think about what It must feel like to drown in the inescapable water, it quenches your thirst yes, but at some point you would have enough of the water coming down on you. There’s a point where the water fills your intestines, it soaks every part of you until your practically drowning. But then the rain starts to fade, and all you hear are the drops falling from the roof onto the cement. You watch slowly in those milliseconds from the time the drop falls to the cement, and the cement consuming the drop, until it’s practically non - existent. And in a short amount time, the whole sound of rain becomes non - existent to a point where you forget that it rained, and the only evidence left is the dark, grey sky above, that within time will fade as well.
m.d.
i tried thinking of the rain as love, and how too much of a good thing can be unhealthy and disastrous, with what seemed fulfilling ended up being toxic, but time can fix the broken bones and the fragile heart that survived it all.
