The rain always comes when you least expect it.
Like a drunken car - crashing into a busy restaurant
Or
It'll tap your shoulder from behind and whisper
"We were always with you"

So
I always have to be ready to run,
remove myself from me
like a shirt on fire.
Then hide,
between the sheets,
in a tasteless cup of tea from a ****** restaurant
or in a toilet stall.
In somewhere where the limit of my reality
are within an arm's reach
where there are no holes for shadows to creep in.

But
Are there such places?
Can anyone carry such a world on their back
like refrigerator,
open the door when you want to 
hide and hide.

I am always in heavy rain
or in a heavy drought
without a spring with blossoming flowers 
and birds chirping
(I don't even remember what the flowers look like)
When there's barely a moment of calm
I'm starting to feel black
Like a drop of black ink


I stand before my strangeness
It is worn on my forehead like a red 
streak that cannot be erased.
In the city square or the buses or trains
waves upon waves of people
in a sea of human voices,
all of them know something I don't know
They are all in a secret society
Where do their rivers of love flow?
When will their volcanoes of hatred erupt?
Seas of brotherhood, storms of violence
None of my items are on my map

My map full of feelings I copied from books
I am walking along that map without understanding 
Like dancing according to the illustrations of a book
(while everyone watches)
 
(I think) I am not a human
None of them wants to talk to me
Maybe it's because of the red spot on my forehead
Or maybe because I can't dance and they know it
Then it starts to rain

I can feel my face melting
(I always had a fear of what my face was doing 
when sitting in front of others)
I want to hide from the rain.
I struggle to close my eye which is broken 
off of me and looking at me

The rain is getting heavier and 
it is melting the concrete towers of the city
That rain is not beautiful
as much as in other people's poems
(Nothing is as beautiful as it is in poetry)
 
Maybe others are lying
Because to them
the rain is so beautiful that 
they are doing everything to avoid it.