I stare out the window, and wish it would rain. A steady torrential downpour releases itself over and over again within me, a desperate echo of a time long forgotten when running through the rain on pitter-pattering little feet was a welcomed gesture instead of one of insanity. Soft and hard against my skin, wet tears from the heavens playing against my flesh, crimson or white as it may be, though promises made should last a lifetime. (i'msorry)
I wish it would rain, echoes and echoes that scream across my mind, a dark chasm of endless cacaphony, I'm unable to concentrate any further except on the desperate loneliness and unending sadness that permeates my soul, permanent markings as if I've been tattooed with it for all of eternity.
I wish it would rain, for there is nothing more that I wish to see than to have the world dissolve alongside me; a tattered dream that shall slide off into the rain. I know now that I am not what I am meant to be; there are so many wishes that live inside of me. I merely wish now for an end to the pain.