Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Some people will often list the smell of rain among their favorite smells, but to me it is an awful stench; a reminder of that hellish night. Some people are made giddy as they watch the dark clouds gather and anticipate the droplets, but the air of excitement is something I dread; it suffocates me. Some people watch the cars zoom by and admire that sound of the wet pavement hissing in response, but this noise is associated with a memory that holds me captive; it is a prison to me. Some people find the smells and sounds of rainfall to be soothing, but I feel as if the world is mourning with me when it rains; a storm played in the background the night my life was shattered. Some people marvel at the beauty of lights reflected in water, but I cannot admire these things for fear that I might get stuck in my head; my mind might think we're back living that night again. Some people used to include myself; no longer, but there is not a day that goes by without a prayer that I might one day return to the world's collection of some people.
0
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 2:59 AM UTC
Some People
Some people will often list the smell of rain among their favorite smells, but to me it is an awful stench; a reminder of that hellish night. Some people are made giddy as they watch the dark clouds gather and anticipate the droplets, but the air of excitement is something I dread; it suffocates me. Some people watch the cars zoom by and admire that sound of the wet pavement hissing in response, but this noise is associated with a memory that holds me captive; it is a prison to me. Some people find the smells and sounds of rainfall to be soothing, but I feel as if the world is mourning with me when it rains; a storm played in the background the night my life was shattered. Some people marvel at the beauty of lights reflected in water, but I cannot admire these things for fear that I might get stuck in my head; my mind might think we're back living that night again. Some people used to include myself; no longer, but there is not a day that goes by without a prayer that I might one day return to the world's collection of some people.
foxfriend
Written by
20/F/Orem, UT
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 2:59 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem