And now, the rain has become malevolent, no longer welcomed, yet it intrudes, nonetheless. As a backdrop to the somber lives we lead, it bears witness to our most regretful moments.
Preposterous, as I am aware, yet, still now, after innumerable hours days of contemplation, I cannot with sound mind say that they are the moments I detest the most because the rain can also serve as a consequence, ensuring in the aftermath of your perplexing words that contradict your actions, and it is in these moments that I believe death would be a much more merciful state than hearing your cruel words pierce and rip something entrusted to you to tatters, so brutal that once done, the scraps and fragments are tied into the most macabre of bloody ribbons when you gift it back as a present severed and returned it to me but it was never mine to begin with.
This doesn't even make sense pls Help me 😭😭
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
PoetryJust random stuff. Formally written (cus I suck at informal?) it's just my lil personal diary. (Most of this was written at 3 am)
