Move to the vibrancy,
Of a ripple from a raindrop.
Feel the current shift infinitely,
As they touch the water top.
Drifting with waves that crash and change.

There will be tears, he sang

Water disguised blood
flooding at the brim of an eye
Gathering pain and hurt
Inconsistent feelings of nothing-happy

Rivers, streams, lakes,
Waterfalls gushing down
Racing drops dripping down heated cheeks
Then broken with shallow coldness
Aches reaching in between cracked skin

Dead rose petals
Falling away from thorn burst stems
Crisp at the tips,
Light in weight until gathered heavily
at the palm of a weak hand
Stained with the mark of blood lines at a wrist
Deranged and shaking while hopelessly gazing
at the happiness laid in a deathbed before you

Sinking teardrops moistening jean pockets
Drip, drip
Another drop
Falling off a water bruised face

Pitter patter, you love the rain
said it always makes you feel in bliss.
Maybe it's the reason why—
When my eyes are full of tears
You seem to be a joyful one.

Pitter patter, you love the rain
Here I am, crying a river
Such sorrow, devouring me whole.
I bless you'll find your euphoria
in this wet weather, making me shiver.

Pitter patter, you love the rain.
Aren't you just fond of the sound of me, sobbing?
I don't really mind, because you love such a cold climate
Rain is forecast just for you.

Pitter patter, you love the rain.
At least, in other words—
It kind of means you love me, too.
My tears, the pitter-patter, the rain you love.

Woven patches of grey,
hues slow in momentum.
Tattered gaps letting through
              gleams of radiance.

But in motion do the faults
get sewn in silver linings.
And this blanket  
             mesmerising below.

Then the lonely flower opens
       its petals, reaching towards
the patch work of loving greys
                 yearning for a touch.

A singular drop falls, taking its
                   time to meet below.
So far has it descended to gently
              caress her wilting petals.

Replenished dew drops hang from
                         now pristine colours.
It waves in the subtle breeze,
      swaying in a dance of gratitude.

I am no longer a raindrop in someone's ocean,
I am now an appalling thunderstorm
who unapologetically demands a second glance.