7 views
first rain
lying by the window,
listening to the rain.
theres a chill in the air,
and if I teeter at the cliff of my imagination,
swinging my legs,
that chill is your breath on my face.
this poetry
that usually
pours out of me,
tonight it comes in crumbs.
and i am stuttering,
each step like my first.
i guess my brain is too waterlogged
by this flood you've sent
to quench my thirst.
and maybe that's what hurts the worst,
because i don't deserve it.
i deserve to grimace in hunger,
throat dry,
wounds deep.
but you shoulder all that pain.
so i can lay here on my back,
listening to the rain.
© - the_tortured_artist
listening to the rain.
theres a chill in the air,
and if I teeter at the cliff of my imagination,
swinging my legs,
that chill is your breath on my face.
this poetry
that usually
pours out of me,
tonight it comes in crumbs.
and i am stuttering,
each step like my first.
i guess my brain is too waterlogged
by this flood you've sent
to quench my thirst.
and maybe that's what hurts the worst,
because i don't deserve it.
i deserve to grimace in hunger,
throat dry,
wounds deep.
but you shoulder all that pain.
so i can lay here on my back,
listening to the rain.
© - the_tortured_artist
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