You once compared your love to a rainstorm.
Clouds bursting with precipitation
heavy in the air, formless.
My fingers are trembling and it's not from the cold.
I am standing in the middle of everything,
I'm slowly getting soaked but there's nowhere else to go,
So I sit down and wait for the everburning sun to show.
Its been a month and not a single ray has speared the clouds.
This storm is composed of sound and fury, but somehow it's not loud.
I've been swimming in the puddles being dropped into the grass,
Thing is, I'm not sure if in drowning or floating
YOU ARE READING
Revelations
PoetryIt was really me. It was really you. There was really nothing we could do. To put it concisely, these are short, philosophical situations, feelings, and thoughts of different persons and personalities I've encountered.
