Vanilla Scent

I long

to see the rain

in the beautiful light it deserves

in its symphonies of

pitter-patters

harmonized with awkward synthesizers

in the form of people cursing and rejoicing the water alike

 

I want to realise its majestic composure

unhindered

even by the sun

as the creator

of the things that breathe pretty vanilla scent

into our anxious lungs

 

not in the catastrophe

I see it to be

nor in the ruining torrent I watch

effortlessly corroding my being

 

all the rain seems to do

is crash my pity party parade

and sprinkle its filthy contaminants

into my gaping wounds

as if to intensify the sinfully good taste

of my innocent blood

 

I wish I didn’t hate the rain

and grimace at every drop

that pervades the earth

or shriek

at every snake of lightning

or bullet of thunder

 

But I know no other way

no other way than to abhor it

with every ramshackle of my worthless existence

because if I didn’t

what else

will I have to blame

for being the harbinger of my pain?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s