Send a little rain my way.

It’s 3 AM, and it’s pouring outside. I am a cliché in a song, staring out the window, intrigued by the thought of the rain being a metaphor for new beginnings. The threads on my t-shirt are tattered from wearing it so often. It reaches just above my knees, covering my underwear clad lower half. I have my knees up against my chest whilst sitting on my window seat, fascinated by the downpour of earth releasing its sadness upon the ground and allowing new life to be formed. I will never believe that isn’t beautiful. I understand the pain the sky is feeling. 

Author's Note

I was listening to Jack's Mannequin's "Kill the Messenger" when I wrote this, and that's where the name comes from.

Reviews

[Angela]

YOU'RE WONDERFUL. Such a great, deep poem writer. I felt like I was reading it out of a book.