Night
It's always raining in my head, washing away many things that should have been. I stutter my words, what I want to say is hidden behind. Its not easy to hide, all this damage inside. I will carry it with me, until I'm no longer alive. It's myself I cannot comprehend, due to a washed away self. I cant hold it together, when I slip through my own fingers by the rain forever falling. All the times I have cried, another glimpse of an ugly taste inside. I stuff it away only for it to wait behind my door. As I lie here in bed, I feel tomorrow will be ok.