rain
I want to feel the rain on my skin—
the way it lands on the palm of my hand;
so warm yet gentle,
the way I remember your touch feeling.
I want you to hold me the way the wind
holds the orange and yellow leaves in
the cold October weather,
almost like it's afraid of letting go.
I want your heart to know it loves me,
like I'm the nerves that light your face red
and the hairs on your skin that stand;
I want you to want me
the way rain wants to pour.
YOU ARE READING
crowded thoughts
Teen Fictionjust random story ideas, thoughts, poems, and scenes that I would like to add into a story, but never will :)
