tears fall like daggers
my skin- dry and ripped;
the sweat drips differently
and the blood flow slows.
patience and positivity keeps the wheels turning,
but there is a breaking point on the horizon.
soon i will stand up to depression,
but for now,
i sit and wait.

Grey days are when the clouds puff a tantrum,
Smoking the sky out of its cozy, azure, play-space
With a big fuzzy blanket that covers the high plains,
And no holes for the blue to poke through.

Occasionally, they spout out their tears
And pelt the poor people below
With a loaded water pistol.

And such people sprout out umbrellas,
Or search for storm's shelter,

Yet one person always prefers to drown in clouds' melancholy.

I would
Gladly open
The windows
Of my heart
But I'm afraid
The weather
Is too cloudy
For your liking

because loving you
is like trying to stargaze
on a cloudy night

The way the rain splatters
against the windows of the car
as it drifts through the city.
Each droplet looks like a tear
as it streaks its way across the pane.

serein touches my fingertips
so sour, but so sweet