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I remember you like rain on my skin

  1. More often than usual I find myself talking outloud to you.

You are here,

Yet not.

I remember you like rain on my skin.

You are not here anymore and this is my fault,

My doing.

But I remember you like rain on my skin.

I pray that in my absence you may see me in your eyes as I do tomorrow,

And all the thousand tomorrow’s to follow.

And so,

I wait.

I would wait for a thousand dews to see you.

I’d stay still like a stone.

I’d watch seeds sprout and bloom and wilt away,

And here I’d stay holding on to momories,

Hoping for the fruits we once dreamed of.


Many times I wish I could forget and leave,


I remember you like rain on my skin.

The calming feeling.

The relief.

The peace.

But here we are,

Two walls of the same building facing each other, yet,

Never reaching the other.

I fail to fathom this weather.

How to live without you.

The clouds are heavy but no droplets fall.

The sun shines but it glows no more.

The winds blow but the air is still.

And here I am,

Feeling every bit of pain like pins pricking through my pores deep beneath my skin,

Sledge hammers banging and banging and banging at my chest,

My heart erratic like a stampede of hooves with unrest.

Hope is a dangerous thing.

I  wander lost like a ghost but wear a façade of strength,

Roaming in a land of loneliness seeking peace indulging in superficial bliss,

While feeling guilty for all of this,

Believing you will come back one day.

But will you?



Written by Jason Ntaro

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