I want it to rain
For a thousand days
Not a gentle drizzle
A raging storm
I want to hear the thunder
I want it to pour
Lightening stretched
Over dark skies
Will open up
My tired eyes
I want to lay on the pavement
And feel the water on my skin
And maybe
Just maybe
I'll close my eyes and pretend
That I'm laying under the rain
With you again

I wandered slowly
Through sidewalk cracks and broken pavements
Finding my own piece of Gethsemane
So that people would know I exist

I was a ghost
To eyes that didn't even care to look
A boring book
To minds that didn't even bother to read
A blank canvas
To those who didn't even try to understand

That I was somebody

All of them only saw me as an empty bottle
Not knowing I just want to be filled with silence
Because silence is a beautiful symphony
And I am the conductor

I am a human being capable of owning a soul and
Live through a thousand lifetimes

I was never the boring book
In fact, I am the author
Writing my own story on Life's pages

I am an artist
A dreamer who can create masterpieces even on
A blank canvas such as myself

But most of all, I am an introvert
A carapace even I consider a home
Because it makes me who I am and
Not because of what you say I am

Vegetables ~ loose LEAF
Candy ~ passion
Meat ~  words
Utensils ~ your hands

Why do I run after you?
Not quite a cheetah-versus-gazelle chase
but a chase nonetheless.
The kind only seen in dreams
the ones that never end.
Reaching out as far as possible
but never quite getting there.

Not even close.

(gbr)