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Jul 2019
a faint clap of thunder follows suit
piercing through — open wound

crying skies
dripping with unrelenting acrid stench
rain knows me better than I know myself

it creeps upon the ground in such a vengeful way —
carried by the storm
a lightning falls
burning as much as it brightens
a sweet lullaby flows

isn't the ocean deep and miserable
lonesome and cold;
is rain the prelude — our last chance to be touched?

it is true
hour long showers are no cure
for this or any of my illnesses
I am yet to find a more suitable place for my sufferings

like a lightning — I burn
only in rain I own
deep and miserable
only in rain —
the world softly blurs
only in rain
I feel I could melt
to the salt in the water
sea foam and strands

its thunder and
its lightning
coming back home
Written by
нина  22/F/Caracas, Venezuela.
(22/F/Caracas, Venezuela.)   
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