in the rain

in the rain i squint and i find the souls of trees.

in the rain i listen and i see the echoes of coughs and colds.

in the rain i wait a little and linger because of the smell of mud and dirt.

in the rain i watch as my hair turns to unboiled strands of spaghetti.

in the rain there are many cold complaints for walking outside.

when the wind picks up i see the trees unlatch from their checkpoints

and the rain create hurdles of leaves turned icy daggers.

the rain reminds me of my overcast background thoughts,

where nothing i say can make my hair wring out or drip-dry.

where nothing i feel

or think

or do

can stop my blood picking up the speed given to it by my anxious, anxious mind.

i stare past the rambunctious chorus of hailstones turning mud to chilled slush

and i swear i see the outskirts of the storm begin to part.

i thought i heard thunder, though.

so it's best to keep the fire going and candles lit as beacons of tomorrow.

~