Rain streaming down my face
Like tears trickling down,
Ache spilling over
Like paint dripping down a canvas
Illustrating beauty,
Only seen by the beholder
I tilt my head back
Letting the drops dissolve on my tongue
Cool, even only for a moment
Beautiful, yet fleeting
Like the sunset hanging
Lazily over the water
Like ice cream, dripping
Dripping, dripping, wasting away
Why can't beauty last?
Yet good and bad fade nonetheless
Cuts scabbing over
Flowers withering before
Succumbing and bowing their heads
My clothes soak through
My breath fogging the space in front of me
And I remind myself
This too shall pass
Do I want it to?
Shivering from the cold
Feeling kisses from the heavens
Through the water they pour
And I decide I will let it be
As I feel
Rain streaming down my face.
YOU ARE READING
Short Story and Poem Collection
Historia CortaHere are a few short stories and poems I don't know what to do with.
