Why Do I Like The Rain?

Why Do I Like the Rain? Author- Lindsey McNair

I like the rain.

When I step into the dreary morning.

I inhale the green and damp scent of water on the asphalt.

The clouds swirling together.

Mixing just like my thoughts.

Never truly disappear, they never stop.

Colliding and sailing through, all gray and sad.

It brings me comfort.

I slide onto the sidewalk, my rubber soled feet padding along softly.

Splash. Splash. Splash.

So quiet but the wind howls in my ear, coaxing me along.

I hate the wind.

I want to outrun it.

Caressing my ears in a soft whisper; a violent purr—drowning me.

Can it hear me too?

Or does it carry along with it my truth?

When my mother silences me it feels an awful lot the same.

But I move along.

Perched on the curb waiting for my bus, and I wish to the sky.

I pray to the clouds and the stars behind them as they have faded behind the morning sun.

Tires squealing, a moving box full of people as sad as me.

To a place we all fucking dread.

Halting to a stop, I stand and wait for the doors of my hell to open.

One last time I look to the sky, those beautifully raging clouds of gray.

Wishing I had no face, no purpose, but to have the luxury to linger in the sky all day.

They tickle my nose,

Hug and soften my dry lips.

And my weary eyes with deep circles of blue I remember.

Why do I like the rain?

It’s simple really.

They blend in with my tears, and cry with me all the same.

I’m not alone.

Wouldn’t you like that too?