Vain and Endless Under the Rain

I was walking in the rain, capturing endless memories of forgotten moments, the rain didn’t feel as heavy on me as the loneliness of the midnight hour. Through the vanity and depths, I crawl to believe that I’m guilty for where I stand – under an everlasting thunder, alone in the dark, looking for light, impatient to wait until the morning.

I’ve seen the world in all its shades, I’ve seen all the people in their pride, but my heart seems to be blind for something real, something still, as still as the breeze of the wind.

I watch the stars, the rain has stopped, but I’m still wet, naked, embarrassed of my own thoughts and cravings. I touch myself thinking of all the men I have loved. I feel complete, angry and hopelessly destroyed.

I wake up in the morning – there is light and I’m back to my life, rushing like everybody else, disappearing like everybody else, fading in the crowd.


One thought on “Vain and Endless Under the Rain

  1. Feels incomplete – or was that sort of the concept? But there is definitely something about standing in the rain when something bad happens, more liberating than a shower – its simpler, right? What doesn’t take a million steps today? Standing in the rain is something everybody has been doing since we were standing. It’s primal, I guess, like many other things, hard-wired into us

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