Where It’s Raining?

Hey dear. How are you? It’s been raining from few days, from no where, for no reason. I was thinking seeing these suburban 

And those freezing winds and shaking branches, that why the springs being such a wonderful season, mixing up things? 

Like…of course, raindrops are beautiful,

But, but somehow, something ain’t right here. I don’t know what? But something, I’m hearing in this air, breaking. Shredding. 

See, I know. I know, from where these creeks and cranks and smashers are voicing. You won’t say. Won’t. 

I’ll not say, I know you. I don’t. Of course. I’m not really saying, to tell me who you are, what’s your story. I’m not interested in knowing you. Even if you may be there dieing, I’ll probably, just can observe and say “Rest In Peace”, and just could wish that you have lived a little more longer. Or someone could have stopped you probably, from taking away your life, if you are thinking there, with the knife or blade in your hands, to slit your nerves. Okay. I wish you don’t, like any other. But what’s the reason to die without even staking until you tasted it all. 

Hey, I sound rude. Okay. Let’s discuss that later. Hey, hark. I’m not asking you to comment or like, or be happy, or message me for an advice or just call someone up or just sit in silence…aha. Sit in silence. No. Don’t. 

Hey. Stop pretending or playing with yourself. Taste it. Taste it right now. 

I’m just saying,

You have been fighting for too long, alone. You have been trying to smile, for too long. 

C’mon. Just cry. Cry for sometime, alone. 

Only that salt in your oceanic eyes, is that one kind of salt, which don’t exaggerate but heals the wounds. Those wounds, which are even more deeper inside than the core. 

But promise me. Promise me, you’ll don’t flow those streams for too long. 

Taste it. Then say goodbye to all that is done. Save that salty borax for future wounds, you have to encounter. 

Hey. Wait. Just take some good sleep. Tomorrow start with anew scratch. 



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