One thing about the rain
It's not just water nor droplets
But bullets of different emotions
A match stick that burns your soul
In a deep, vague coldness

Some found happiness from it
I once did
And some did find something
They did not want nor expect

But a thing about the rain
You will always find something
It will always give you a thing
Even if you're not aware
And when you're not aware
Let me tell you that it's the rain

A thing about the rain
It's a door that leads to places you once went
It opens widely for a rent
More than being water, it is a memory
Although you cannot tell
If it is the same place
You once longed to be
We cannot say that the door is safe
Nor is it free

Some were trapped
Some managed to escape
Some managed to smile
And I managed to fear
I fear that rain would prolong and
Would bear a fruit
But it didn't
It just plucked up a great root

How wonderful the rain could be
How it crashed to ground a resilient tree
How one could change with a single memory
And how rain triggers my anxiety

Why do people seem to see themselves as puzzle pieces
Waiting to be fitted into the edges and curves
Trying to find the right one to sit with
Touching, to see if somehow they deserve
To be ruled by someone else
To be under their protection
Yet still searching if they are worthy of love
And care
And belongingness
And pain.


"What would it be like to be held in those arms again?"