The rain on my window has no idea that I think of it as fat unsalted tears, as I watch the flow from ashen discontented skies
It cannot think or reason why
I feel this way
About the foggy endless grey
that fills my head
The heavy sense of brooding and unsatisfying dread
Maybe tomorrow the sullen rain will drain away
But not today
Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 7:36 AM UTC
The rain on my window has no idea that I think of it as fat unsalted tears, as I watch the flow from ashen discontented skies
It cannot think or reason why
I feel this way
About the foggy endless grey
that fills my head
The heavy sense of brooding and unsatisfying dread
Maybe tomorrow the sullen rain will drain away
But not today
