The ticking of the clock is
in time
with the pattering of the rain
on the balcony outside.
I'm staring at the cold,
insensitive
but elegant, perfectly shaped
drops harshly hit the ground.
From my window,
I am divorced from the cold,
sitting on my bed under the sheets,
but almost wishing that
I was outside
where the rain could bury me
and wrap it's
inviting arms around me
and let me drown.