on my big day the rain was pouring
the day where everything creative i do
the drawing
the painting
the glitters and the ideas
on the human canvas
becomes my job
when i become burdened by my creativity
when i don't have a corner to turn to
my mother buys me coffee
and she tells me she hates driving through the wretched rain
it makes her feel so wary
and i tell her i've always loved the rain
the shade of the sky when it's crying
giving us life
she turns to me and tells me it's no surprise
as it rained the minute i entered this world
the minute i breathed the air of a burdened creative
who's dying to be a muse
yet is always someone else's
mirror of confidence.
