My cold bedroom floor pulls me apart
As my mind unravels.
My spine aches from the solid wood
Yet it seems to comfort me.
The gray light burning in the clouds
Sneaks in around the shades pulled shut.
I listen to the freezing rain knocking on my window
Wondering if I should let it in;
Open myself up to the cold
And let it devour my already wasted soul,
Freezing in place my fate
That has been decided from the start.



Rain drops collect on the wind shield

Swiped away by the wipers seconds later

A new slate of drop-less glass is left behind

The cycle repeats


I listen to the rain

Trying to sort out the thoughts running through my head


Less than an hour ago

I was wrapped up in your warm arms

Listening to the rain on the windows of your bedroom


The sound was comforting and rhythmic

but now that we are miles apart

the sound is achy and uneven.



I watch the rain fall in front of the large oak outside the window.  It’s carefully falling to the ground, almost like it’s in slow motion.  It contrasts with the rest of my surroundings. Everything is traveling full speed; Feet moving, car wheels spinning.  But, nothing is rushing the rain.  Nothing is telling it to make it’s twelve O’Clock appointment or study for it’s math exam Friday.  It’s just falling.