My clouds are falling
and all I want to do is run
but I remain frozen, no umbrella, no coat.

I thought the skies
would show me mercy,
but I guess I don't understand their poetry.

Torrential pouring of tears,
but I stand there accepting her grief
letting it wash away my pride.

I suppose one day I will realise why.

That day, I absorbed all of the rain,
and now all I can do is cry.

Look, I know
I should just go to sleep
Same as I know I'd get more done if I stopped writing poems
But if I go to sleep now
I'll dream of Death
About how close I can get before our fingers twine and
I can't get them undone
And I wonder if those who choose him regret it
Because it doesn't seem like there's much to regret right now

So I'll write instead of sleep
In hopes that I'll stumble upon some words of my own
That convince me I made the right choice
When I chose    
to stay