Rain, rain, please don’t go away…
Stay with me today and be my friend.
Everything feels like it’s at a standstill.
Sometimes I like feeling like the only person on the planet.
I don’t know why.
There’s something comforting about the silence. The pattern of the rain and the grey, dreary sky.
So, so quiet.
All I can hear is my thoughts and the pitter patter of the rain.
Engulfed in deafening silence.
All I can see is my pain.
It’s like a mountain standing in front of me.
I just don’t have the tools to climb over and get to the other side.
I feel like the light in me has gone out. I can’t trust anyone, there is no one who will spark it.
I’d give anything just to be happy. Why do I have to face these obstacles every day? It doesn’t feel like it’s getting easier, only harder.
I don’t think I need much. I just want to live in a place where there is trust, love and goodwill.
How can I overcome all this if I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel? It may all work out in the end but all I see is me suffering right now.
Have mercy.
My heart has been smashed into a million pieces.
Have you found your new home yet?
…
I see. There’s no need to rush things. In the meantime, why don’t you try making yourself at home?
…
I see. That’s unfortunate. Just wait and it’ll happen.
…
And by wait I don’t mean waste time. There is a lot of living to be done before you find the right place.
…
Maybe it would make it easier if you believed that that place was already being prepared for you.
…
See, you don’t see it now but your bed has already been made. And it will remain. So there is no need to stress.
…
Must we go on about this any longer? I’m starting to grow tired.
…
Good night.
I can birth the story but when I do, it takes on a life of its own.
I can scribble my true feelings onto paper but now it’s more than a poem.
I can live and take my bed up here and still have it not be my home.
I can have friends for life but really still be alone
I can have a heart of flesh but really have a heart of stone
I can pretend to not be affected but still be prone
I can write you a poem on your birthday, written in prose
I trail on alone… in the darkness.
I’ve never been more frightened. It’s thundering and the clouds are dark and charged with rain.
For a moment, it seems the only thing raining down tonight is me.
But I can’t turn back… not now anyway.
There’s nothing to go back to. They say home is where the heart is. In that case, my home is definitely not my home. And I have nowhere I can place my heart.
I feel stranded. Like the loneliest creature in this long and dreary night.
I call a friend but strangely their phone has been disconnected. It’s all awfully too convenient.
I look for a sign. Telling me to go back. Or to keep going. I’m done relying on signs. Suddenly, it begins to rain. So I search for the nearest cover. A tree provides me with temporary shelter. Still, I’m shaken with fear. Will anything ease my troubled mind?
Suddenly home doesn’t seem so bad. At least it’s a shelter from all the dangers of life. Although one day I won’t have that safety cushion anymore. I’ll have to venture out into the wilderness alone. Kind of like now.
Who or what will I give my heart to? Who or what will be the tree that shades me through the storms and the rain?
For now, there’s nobody. And that’s just a reality I have to deal with. Although I don’t want to, I will have to return home immediately. And not because anyone will worry about me. But because I have to. It’s my only home. As broken as it may be.
As the night progresses, I strangely find solace under this tree. This thing, it’s not a human but it’s providing me with necessary shelter. Life’s comical that way. I somehow find peace and quiet even though the weather has not yet tempered.
The street has no perceivable end. I could shout and no one would hear me.
It’s puzzling to me how no one is slightly worried for my safety. All I have is myself and an iTunes library of music. Is it enough? Who knows.
I was afraid of being caught in a thunderstorm but nature isn’t to be feared. It’s to be respected. And right now it’s coming through for me when no one is.
It’s not like I’m completely alone. But I might as well be. Having someone to talk to isn’t the same as having someone you can be yourself with, unapologetically.
I know I’ll make it through this. There’s no doubt in my mind. I always persevere and that’s a trait I like in myself. But for now all I see is a lost little boy. Alone in the rain.
Artistic Apathy 