When it’s drizzling outside

When it’s drizzling outside
and the world has a crust
of your gaze.

When it’s twice colder for
a Thursday evening and a ghost
of a wail escapes your lips.

If by chance you
are clawing letters on the folds
of your skin leaving tatters
of bone and flesh within
your fingernails -red and
pointedly strained- as
well as, blame the
indignant circumstance
of pitter patter on your
window pane,
I would only want you
to know one thing:
I am irretrievably
here
for every single
fucking rainy day that
leaves a trail of grey against
all your lovely evenings
such as this.

Dearie,
there is no need to be afraid
of water tracking down
our side of the glass
where it is
far more warmer,
and time is slowed
to a skitter of a breath.
Be brave.

 

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Published by

cie miraflor

A Filipino at heart and a Thomasian in spirit. A vocalist. A bookworm. A chocoholic. A liar. A dreamer. A coffee addict. A writer of poetry and short stories. A pending Information Technologist. A frustrated programmer. Blinded with love for Batman.

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