Lying in the grass at two in the morning,
Smoking some Marlboro 27s,
With a bottle of Sobieski by my side.
I'm staring into the completely blank sky,
And the clouds have gypped me again.
My stomach feels warm,
My head feels heavy.
The clouds where too ominous.
I should have remembered foreshadowing from my childhood.
The one vocab used every ******* year ,
From ages 10 to 18.
I knew it was going to rain.
By this point I don't have enough sobriety stored up to care.
Or to leave.
If the rain wants to get in my hair, and my mouth, and my clothes, and my soul,
It'll be closer than I want anyone else to be at this moment.