The rain makes the world gray,
gray like the way your touch felt on my thigh.
You looked so handsome today,
with your voice as melodic as angels
and I couldn't help myself to think that although I want you to be happy,
I can't bare your happiness not involving me.
I know it's selfish,
but we're all generation me.
And you frustrate me because I can't figure you out.
You're a shifting maze,
I'm trapped in you
        and I couldn't be happier.
I think of you often and wonder how you could hate me
But demons aren't meant to be loved,
or fixed.
I constantly desire your love,
or at least a reassuring glance.
But you are white and I am black,
I wish I could say
we blend together impeccably.
But I'm just being naive.
I guess we can just blame it all on the rain.