- rainy days
our first fight was on a rainy day.
well, you were the one
that did all the fighting, really.
we were in my studio and
you told me that i didn't spend enough time with you,
that i spent too much time painting.
how i loved that rainy day.
that was when i saw the true you.
the thunder casted right there
in the palm of your hands.
like the ocean, your words flowed out.
and your eyes,
my meia.
your eyes can both heal and kill.
only you.
you realized that the reason i wasn't spending time with you the past couple of days
was because i was painting a portait
of the girl i don't deserve, of course.
of you.
it's always you.
i realize now that the painting didn't really look like you.
i made it too ideal.
i know now that when i paint your speech, i paint a raspy yet soft voice, like notes on sheet music.
when i glaze the sound of your laugh,
i paint the freshly grown apricots that your grandma gives me every spring.
i should paint everything you truly were,
not just what i thought you were.
i'll repaint that portait, the next rainy day i find myself loving. and when that happens, i want to personally apologize for not paying enough attention to what was clearly right in front of me.
