All my life,
I’ve been careful not to get caught in a rainstorm, or fall in love.
Both equally as messy.
Often equipping myself with a sturdy black umbrella I like to call cynicism.
Firm and unchanging it has never let me down over the years.
In a critical moment, it became fragmentation.
Letting my feelings for you fall like downpour without warning.
And leaving me wet and clingy.
Honest advice, never trust a dollar store umbrella.
Or believe that you can control who, how and when you fall in love.
But now that I have gotten drenched.
Dripping of raw emotions.
I admit it’s not so bad.
And surely when it rains, it pours
But when it’s done pouring the sun must come up eventually.
And when it does, it doesn’t take a whole day to recognize sunshine.
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