A random cold morning.
Rain falls from the dark sky
and I curse it,
wanting to scream.
My mind is fogged
with visions of him.
Not a single tear rolls down my eye,
but nature? The clouds?
They cry for me—
an offering that I tend to ignore,
feeling like crushed rose petals.
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 3:48 AM UTC
A random cold morning.
Rain falls from the dark sky
and I curse it,
wanting to scream.
My mind is fogged
with visions of him.
Not a single tear rolls down my eye,
but nature? The clouds?
They cry for me—
an offering that I tend to ignore,
feeling like crushed rose petals.
