When your body is under the weather,
your eyes are foggy and dead like leather,
and those eyes keep raining, pouring, and dribbling down the sides of your sunken face,
like it's a race to see which droplet will come in first place.

The pitter-patter on your lap of the rain falling from above
feeds a pool forming between your thighs and your stomach.

The weathermen keep on reporting storms.
At least you have some warning.
The lightning flashes and blinds you,
and the thunder clashes and deafens you.

You can't hear the world around,
you're too drowned.