Written on 12 June 2019
And the rain clatters and burns.
It won't stop.
It won't relent.
And it chips chunks out of me.
And I scrabble on the floor, collecting the chunks, attempting to make them part of me again, but the rain won't stop.
And above anything else, I just want to make sure there is enough of me to exist, but the rain is making it hard.
But I know a break will come.
A parting of the clouds.
A divine intervention.
Whatever the hell you want to call it.
And the rain will relent, and I can haphazardly rebuild myself on a wave of warmth.
Waiting for the rain to come again. Ready to face it.
Hopefully stronger than I was last time.