it's raining,
it's pouring,
the old man is sighing.
wondering why it's raining.
trying to remember how many times
he's sat on his porch and listened
to the rain trickle down in front of him.
after all, it was a rainy area.
he tried to look back on his wife.
he tried to picture the them back when the porch wasn't over grown.
"oy vey",
he thought wistfully to himself.
he sat content for now.
but he wondered when his rain drop might touch down.

This isn't 2007
You're not as pretty as you think you were
Or as fit as you were back then
You're not in high school
You didn't even win Prom Queen
All your juvenile accomplishments may have meant something to people who cared about high school
But then nobody cares now
Suckers are falling for the cruelty of compliments
And they can't tell the difference between an insult from your mouth and kindness from a good person in the form of me delivering you to the painful truth
That when you were somebody
It wasn't preparing you for anything
You're going to be nobody forever
Just another face on TV
With 15 minutes of forgetability
Because you were never really giving. You never knew what it meant to defend the defenseless, fight for what was right, or think about making somebody else look good when they needed a win.
You only think of survival in the jungle of pettiness
And when you feel you've done some sort of triumph
It's always about you

Recently I have learned that I need to let go of the toxic.
He is toxic.
You know what I did, I didn’t respond and I deleted the message.
If I want to get anywhere in life and be a better, happier person;
I need to drop the toxic.

"but rain is depressing"

the usual reaction
to my weird joy
when it rains.

you know what?
rain is depressing.
but that's why
i like it so much.
it's in pain,
it's relatable,
it's
sad.

It's falling
with little control.
d
   r
     o
        p.
It's gone,
absorbed
into grass,
or accepted into
a little stream
down a cheek
or on a road
making its way
to a gutter.

It's loud
and distracting.
constant interruptions
to look
up and meet
the rain,
or out the window
in a futile attempt
to see where
the thunder
comes from.
a tumult of thoughts
mixing with cries
of the wind.

Soaking clothes
and freezing hair,
though nothing colder
than the emptiness
inside.
a void filled
only with drops.
rain or tears.
it doesn't matter.
even then,
it's not stable.
just rain
and sadness
in an abyss.

Be quick, before a rain
                                       d
                                       r
                                       o
                                       p
spills off the rainbow bowl.

And the smiling rose
shows the world
the sun in its dew.

Painting
            every
                     nook
                        every
                     hue
                of a
         water
drop.
Once done all in all
there was still a sea
     in the whole!

Who’s eyeing up is lurking deep.
Every star looks down,
wants to drop in it and swim
deep down the burrowed stream,
that deathless ab-e-hayath
every king wants to drink.

You got me so drunk
I forgot what a hangover was.
Twisted lies,
and the devils eyes.
In between the happiness,
is what I call hate.
Unlike what you might think,
it's what made me want you
in the first place.
I crave a drop of you and your face
now and then
when I'm not really thirsty.
I search for mercy
wrapping myself in the sky,
going to bed,
planning what I might do
when you let me drink again
the next time I see you.

Splinters jabbed deep over time
It was just a drop that dripped out
That miserable first time
Now a river cuts through me.
How do I turn off the tap?