Poetry

Rainy Days

Droplets of rain
land gracelessly on me-
Clinging to my eyelids,
congealing and opaque-
hiding and shielding me from the truth.

A summer rain
is suppose to be romantic-
Humidity clings to my skin,
sweat and dust
embroidered into my white dress
slashes of mud and Crimson
on the wretched hem-
Fetid breath of expired speriment-
setting the scene,
perfuming the air
with haste and rushed,
Undeveloped and Unrequited passion.

The backdrop is a hazy sky,
smudged with dirty and bruised shades,
brown and gray litter the horizon
and the sun hides behind
the smog of human waste.

The rain that falls from the sky,
use to be graceful and lovely,
head thrown back
tongues playfully out
and smile wides.
But now I fear the rainy days
where each droplet carries
the scent of congealed waste
with dirt sprinkled within
the adulterated surface.

Rain reminds me of childish times
of jumping in puddles
and runny noses-

Umbrellas like shields-
I fear for the worst
As the sky darkens
And the air is heavy with the promise
of rain.

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