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Jul 2018
i like the rain.
the sound, the smell, the feeling against my skin.
its warm water seeps into my roots and and feeds my restless soul.
but it’s raining a bit too hard,
and my leaves are falling,
my flowers are wilting.
petrichor stains my stinging lips and fills my lassitude lungs.
there’s too much water.
rain turns to rivers and rivers turn to waves.
i’m afraid i’m drowning.


― i need a minute to breathe
sometimes there is such a thing as too much of a good thing
Marisol Quiroz
Written by
Marisol Quiroz  22/F/Newcastle upon Tyne
(22/F/Newcastle upon Tyne)   
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