Let the rain fall all night
Sitting in puddles on the street
With your ponytail soaking.
Let the May showers come again
With the repetition of Nietzche.

You lie on your back in the cool wet mud
Spitting insults in a million different ways.

You let your golden hair fall
As the leaves might in Autumn
Continuously spitting with fury
Hiding your anguish behind those self centered eyes.

When you fall to your knees like the mortals to gods
You sing, quietly, the song your mother sang
After which, your hair back up, you appear from the shadows
Looking a bit worse for wear.

You let the rain shower down,
Ripe yellow hair turns almost brown at the roots
And as you tear off the drenched silk dress
You find you might like yourself better that way.