The Rain on my Umbrella

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If the rain on my umbrella is allowed to fall why can't I? Falling into a system of loathing and fatigue. I am nothing but the roots in soil living for water, that validation. Scrolling through people frozen in time with just one click I verify my jealousy, sadness, and longing. If the rain on my umbrella can sparkle as the sunlight or moonlight hits it why can't I? Questions are so useless to ask, waiting for answers, a meadow of flowers will bloom before the time waiting will pass. I cannot see my own breath but within feeling yours I remember. Thinking back to the days where I felt smaller than the dew in morning's awakening, the water that runs from my eyes as I yawn, quiet. I remember that you can have this space and air so why do I bother to live and breathe. This spot I take could be yours. I haven't had a morning where the fog was there to calm me in a while. Through my window I think of songs filled with heartbreak and sadness. Despite it being so common, I feel alone in a sea of creatures. I have never been too keen to accept my fate with open arms as others do. I wish to be a rain droplet on an umbrella, I wish to be you.

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