it was drizzling outside my window
when the ground broke apart.
it was so gloomy that afternoon and
i searched for any trace of light,
any silver lining the clouds had to offer,
yet all i noticed were the droplets of rain falling and sliding down the glass,
imitating my cheeks as i swallowed and said, "im not crying. it's just the rain."
i had gone out and stood under the shower,
ignored how it made my eyes sting and red,
and how my tears are under the disguise of rain,
and my cheeks mimicking windows that surround,
and my body soaking wet like i had just gotten out of the shower,
and how you stood before me, questioned my red eyes, my shivering lips, and all i said was, "it's just the rain."
the storm got louder, trumpets cowarded and stabbing me in the back, everything turned its back on me and i didn't know what to be scared of; of the storm that was getting heavier, or if there were more that would betray me.
and so i braced myself for the storm,
looked at the accusing faces,
managed to shrink with wetness in my eyes and managed to say, "im not breaking. it's just the rain."
and soon no anchor could hold me down.
and soon the ocean part ways when the clouds hovered closer.
and soon i found no refuge in the stillness of the deep waters.
and soon the sky told me that i had to face the storm it is expressing.
how it dealt with mine, and how i had to deal with its.
and now my eyes remain close, heart drumming and fingers tapping, and my mind conflicting and creating statics like no other radios, and with your concern and silent beggings, all i say is, "it's just a little storm."
