P O E T R Y // o.r

quarante // downpour

i stare absentmindedly out of the window
and notice that
it's absolutely pouring down outside
but then i realise that
my shirt is soaked through;
the aftermath of my tears gushing like
waterfalls from my eyes,
the transparent droplets bounce from
my delicate eyelashes and land on my blanket,
which, to this day, still carries your scent.

your natural fragrance reminding me of the ever sacred memories
we created and, oh darling, it's raining again.
my eyes are rainclouds and my mind the sky:
heavy water accommodates the defenceless clouds,
influenced by the stormy aura arising in the sky
and the earth decides that it cannot handle experiencing
a dry season any longer, even though the sun hasn't shone
in what seems like an eternity,
so the clouds abandon hope and provoke a mighty
downpour of melancholic precipitation.

i stare absentmindedly out of the window
and notice that
it's absolutely pouring down outside
but then i realise that
the window is a mirror;
my tears were the outcast rain all along,
i was too intoxicated by misery
to register this,
and i did not distinguish the difference
between the outside and myself,
since i am as dismal, pitiful and alone
as the tragic outdoors.

o.r