two in the morning.
quiet streets are rudely interrupted
by the sound of rain.
falling fast
not caring about the intrusion.
i look up
the immense drops of self-loathing
and doubt overflow
as they enter my eyes.
i am blinded
by the acid and poison
that come with the downpour.
dont cry.
dont cry.
dont cry.
failure then overflow await me.
they race.
for first place.
down my face.
washing away
the fluctuations of agony.
then putting new tortures in my eyes.
lightening flashes
illuminating the black hole
of clouds hovering above.
thunder roars exhuming all audio.
the world is a dark place.
street lamps flicker a firefly glow.
while mother inaudibly
violates my eardrums.
rain is pouring down my face.
an unstoppable flow.
immersing everything into nothing.
YOU ARE READING
the art of expressing opinions
PoesíaIt's my metaphorical mind in a chaos whirlwind of words, thoughts, emotions and actions. Can you find the deep in the water, or will you drown in the shallows?
