when i come home it rains
it makes me think of trev
my first love
we were two kids who ran out in the rain
if it poured we dropped everything
missed class, skipped lunch, pushed off homework, ditched friends,
ours was a love that thrived in the rain
a scarily real and intense puppy love
deep thoughts, pounding heart, passionate people
who fed off each other and our love of the rain
we were thinkers, athletes, feelers, lovers
we were young and smart and full of potential
we were cutting edge
together yet open, yet hopelessly devoted
whenever i come home it rains
i come home after all-nighters, too much alcohol, finals, papers, the ends of eras
i come home after milestones are reached
i come home and sleep for days
do laundry
eat real food and cleanse my body
i come home to my parents love
to church, family, neighborhoods of grass and trees and forest
i come home to the familiar that i didn't know i missed
i come home to write
and every time i come home it rains
it rains to wash away my tiredness
my headaches, my lightheadedness
it rains to wash away the layer of dirt thats built up on my body in the form of too little sleep, too much gossip, and spreading myself too thin
the rain lets those late night conversations with the ones i love sink in
it aids how i process everything
it makes it just cold enough to wrap myself in family afghans on those big plush purple couches
the rain is home to me
every time i come home it rains and to me its a reminder of god's promise
that i have a place
that it is a familiar one
one where i belong
one where i am safe, and can stop over here to forget my troubles and halt my travels
since im always moving from place to place
i love that every time im home it rains, and i can walk barefoot on wet grass and smile up at the sky and remember, and think, and pray, and thank
No comments:
Post a Comment