It's something about NYC that makes rain all that much more dreadful. I remember back in my hometown I prayed for rain at my bedside every night, gazing out of the window to see if God was listening. He never really was, she always came when I least expected it.
She came in the middle of the night when I felt crowded with too many thoughts already. It's ridiculous how persistent she is. She's only calm on a hard umbrella, and even then I have to hear the cries all that much louder. Maybe one day I'll leave it be, and I'll let her soak me in her misery... but I did that once.
I remember the day all so clearly. She started out perfectly calm.. just the soothe humidity tickled my anxiety. I went to school alone that day, she needed the day off she said to everyone. I understood, because it's not easy, being the Rain when you used to be the Sun.
That day, every glimpse or hint of the sun she used to shine disappeared.
All I ever saw from there were thick dark clouds, smelling of skunk. She was never the same, even her watershed became toxic to me.
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Moon Heroine
PoetryI can hear her footsteps in the rain, it sounds like shes getting closer. I never see her though...