I can't remember when the rain started. I'm not even sure if I have ever been dry. It was a summer day when I finally looked up to see the dark clouds. I sat inside by my window. Heavy rain. So loud it left me drowning in the silence around me. Thunder rattled my home like my trembling hands. "This rain is ridiculous," I told a friend.
The Rain. It's been raining for as long as I can remember.
Does the rain not collect on your window? I can't look out of mine without seeing myself reflected back at me. The rain has kept me in bed for days at a time. White knuckles around my sheet when the lightning thrashes.
The Rain. It tramples the ground like my thoughts to my joy.
--I don't think it rains for other people.