You let me grow
when I could have died.
Breathing on my face,
your words an unspoken trauma.
My knees are scalded by the marble floor;
my eyes are delicate;
my heart fades in forward motion.
As I breathe and release;
as I try to surrender;
Living here is not living at all.
Family wounds are now the trigger;
they're at the back of my neck.
I'm begging to be let go.
If you only knew how much I tried to grow;
I tried to assimilate into these downpours.
Being with you gracefully punctures my skin.
A bullet grew from your mouth
and it still devours me from within.
Forecast: Fear 65% of Rain
YOU ARE READING
It's Raining Outside
شِعر[Completed] 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃. I don't know how else to say this, but... 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐬; 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧�...
