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I stand against a raging flood that passes my feet. The water is too cold to handle. it’s too cold to stand on and stay. it’s too much for something we expect—rain and everything that comes with it.

I used to hate rain. it brings me a perpetual sadness in the middle of solemnity. it winds my mind to the corner I was never used to going by. I hate its raindrops loudly banging on the roof. I used to hate its flood and all that is in it. But now, as I embrace the future of summer and spring, is to treasure how the coldness of the night leads you to things you made comfortable at most ease. And as we observe how leaves fall from a withered tree nature’s emotions of replenishing itself.

it’s midnight, it is cold. I sneeze back and forth and I spin my stiff neck after a long day of keeping myself busy. I put my earphones up and increased the volume of my music to forget how calm the wind is and so I am not.

another dimension every song was anticipated. but one thing is for sure; those dimensions could be worse or could be evil. For it brings me to things I desire I never imagined could be.

The downpour of raindrops on my shoulders that had been battered was perplexing how things inevitably exist to ruin something you’ve caressed and kept with all your might and strength.

Is this toughness, or a not-so-unusual unusual feeling? Did I stand boldly or did I just face the fact that it was just worse to let time pass than say things unsaid for a very long time of your mouth being clogged with unwanted thoughts rather than seeking the present to settle those whose certainty is indefinite to be relieved? 

for Thee’s sake, I was tired. I’m sleepless, I’m drought. I’m an empty can with a voice—a nuisance—that echoes the city. but for the sake of self-worth, God knows how I’ve tried. God knows how I kept the tears not flowing and unravel my deteriorating mind. God knows how I disregarded myself for everyone, and not only to some. for His glory, I proclaim my weakness, my spinelessness. I crumble to fix the unviable system degraded over time. but I changed myself, yet they look beyond it as worst?

fuck life. I’m enough of sadness. I’m enough of trying my best for some things unworthy. we’re in a game of realities, and it’s enough for me to lose every time I regard people due to awe. I’m tired, for Pete’s sake.

what thing I must be in awe of is never those who just regard my being as an instrument to live, but my existence who’s catching to survive who’s almost on a cliff of falling to death. 

let me be soaked in this rain. let any umbrellas bestowed on my weary soul be wrecked. leave me alone in this storm of sensations that had left me incapable of processing again. 

drown me in this rain of ease. hold me tight and don’t let me get out of this slipping grip. my eyes were dried up and there was nothing more to be conveyed. 

portray me with no mouth, as it was nonsense for my imaginary smiles. leave me no eyes that are all gone dry. let me have no ears done bleeding for unending grief. halt those senses; there is no worth having.

leave me numb, leave me insatiable. for you first left me without any face to be proud of.