Rain, rain, please come and stay

Dedicated to all of you who have ever had a blue and rainy friend float your way. 

Sometimes a blue, rainy feeling will mosey in

He’ll take a seat next to you and rest his head on your shoulder

like an old friend would.

And his presence next to you 

brings pain and relief

like when you realize the fears you had were true

and you exhale,

I thought so...

He's like that,

And he understands that you've been trying

for too long to be strong.

So you cry

and he cries

And for a moment,

It feels nice to cry

Right, to cry

But then the crying never stops

And his head never leaves your shoulder

all the while, your blouse is practically see-through

from all the tears that have been cried - 

your head aches a bit

and your nose wants to copy your eyes

And you wonder,

Will it always be like this?

Surely I’m all out of tears…

Yet, still more come

And it’s impossible to see anything

through eyes made weepy and bleary

and puffy by all of the tears that passed them by

You’ve lost so much already

and you know you have to lose him too -

Your dear, rainy companion

Because while the both of you kept crying,

the world kept going.

And though your world stopped

no one else’s followed suit.

So for this moment, though bittersweet,

it's time to let go of another friend,

because rain was never meant to stay -

even Noah saw a rainbow's bend. 

- A

Homesick

A poem I wrote about chasing after love but never finding satisfaction.



We walk aimlessly
Down empty streets
And shaded alleys
For love we cannot find. 

Behind corner stores,
Between the grocery shelves,
Burried in crowded rows, and
Beyond uncaring screens – we search. 

We even crack the spine,
read the turn of riddled lines,
but find them empty too.

Surely, filled with love,
but none for you. 

Whilst lovers roam, desperately,
some believe they find the key.
But still they see they lack a single piece.
Such a strange, large spot to fill. 

I’ve witnessed none like it before -
Amongst the shelves, the streets or screens.
We still believe a gem is there amongst
the grime and dirt we see. 

Some find one they think may fit.
But trying they can't touch fingertips. 

Others, seem to fill the space,
but it hurts when shoved into place. 

We're either left with gaping holes, or we suffocate. 

Lovesick. 
Perhaps, homesick –
is what we really are.