once upon a time,
there was a tiny cactus in a large valley.

the tiny cactus lived day by day,
going about its cactus routines.
he wasn't happy, he wasn't sad;
he didn't feel, for he didn't have to.

one night, the tiny cactus felt little droplets of salvation
free-falling from above.
the water droplets filled him up and embraced him,
from inside out and outside in.

soon, he himself started to produce tiny droplets as well.
he remembered now,
he had experienced this phenomenon - rain - before.

he had waited through
countless waxing and waning of the moon
for the rain to return again.
but it never did, and his walls grew tougher
until he didn't need the rain anymore.

and now that it was back, now that he could feel again...;
despite the thickness of his walls,
gentle streams of fluid were flowing out of him.

now that the rain finally came back,
all the tiny cactus could do was cry.

if i memorized an ice cube,
and time melted its looks;
nothing has been killed,
you are still you.

rain falls, goodbye.
the look in your eyes,
my facade of a smile,
nothing is the same now.

twisting internally,
in ways you can't see.
the sun came out to play,
but you were too far away.

if i smothered my sparks,
and followed you into the dark;
oh, what i'd ****,
for you to still be you.

if we were sun and moon,
we'd meet every monsoon.
if we were sea and shore,
gravity is our only law.

if we were guns and doves,
we'll fight with weapons of love.
if we were dreams and hell,
let's live in wishing wells.

if we were black and white,
i'd curl myself around you despite.
if it was you and me,
i wish we could blend endlessly.

hope is planting a seed,
squatting above the soil;
after all that toil -
only time can tell.

disappointment is noticing the sun, and
realizing that day will never come;
after all that toil -
into yourself you coil.