I can see my withered face.
Timid hands. And sore feet.
I am dying.
But the space between kills us more.
My heart has stopped.
So has your voice.
It feels like the rain erases no pain any more.
It feels like a disease.
Slowly pouring onto me.
I am crying, clenched fist near my heart.
Trying to scream out your name.
But everytime I do,
I vein of blood bursts inside of me.
Drenching me in pure sadness.
I sit on my knees and pray.
Then I lie down, and fade like smoke in the rainy skies.