It feels like I keep
my feelings in a bucket
And each day
it gets heavier
and heavier
Until I empty it.

But until Then
I carry this bucket around
It drags in the dirt behind me
and weighs me down.
And at the end of each day
I feel so heavy myself.

Every night I sort
through the bucket,
All the anger is crusted
to the bottom
and It's impossible to scrub away
Happiness is always falling out.
It takes a lot more happiness to fill that bucket
and even then it weights
less that even a speck of anger.

It takes a drop of sadness, a smidge
of pain, or even a dash of
frustration to overpower the happiness and
shove it from the bucket.

Finally one day I look
down at this bucket of mine and
I realize, I'm tired
of lugging it around
and carrying
the wounds
and anger of my past self.

Tonight I empty my bucket
I'll let the pain and sadness
go
and set the anger free

After all I can't hold on to it
forever

The skies have darkened.
Solar silhouette barely gleaming through these polluted smudges passing for clouds.
The ground starts to polka dot with every acidic drop.
Brush it off, it's nothing.
It's doesn't work. It's lingering.
The downpour steadily increasing.
With each passing tedious moment.
Now you're visibly shaking.
Surface streams have collected and the dam will need relief soon.
With every lie of "Hi, i miss you." and
"I still love you." gathering it's slowly dismantling the garrison.
Where there were once light cracks there is now gushing veins through brick.
The storm hasn't let up or even shown signs of stopping.
With the dam soon to be destroyed the promise of a flood is upon us.
Here comes the water.