The rain is said to wash away grief,
But how do you wash away something that is a part of you?
For this grief has now housed me.
No longer the host, I am a parasite clinging to my own body.
Parasites stick to what nourishes them,
Your grief is then a burden you need to let go of.
Don't hold it in, shed those tears.
And watch flowers blossom under your eyes.
But it is easier I am gone,
Insignificant as I am,
A lone letter in a Ballad,
A dot in a pointillistic painting.
This world you call your home is also but a dot in the universe.
The raindrops are but dots on the surface of the ocean.
Your power lies in your insignificance
For it foreshadows the fate of all your problems, all your regrets.
The umbrella of positivity cannot save me from the rain of reality,
It drenches my soul, till I shiver from the cold,
The world becomes a distorted canvas of odd emotions,
I cannot love myself without wanting to hurt me first
Hurt yourself then,
Smile till your jaws hurt and laugh till your stomach cries
Hug till your arms feel numb
To no sorrow shall you succumb