Downpour

I tasted humidity. 

Through dirt, metal, toxins,

Because of thirst, weakness, or sorrow,

Rain water fell upon me,

And I drank it to feel satisfied.

I felt heavy instead,

Filled with empty water,

With no space for vitamins,

Or electrolytes,

Or joy, or smiles, or memories,

For the pelted beatings of the small rain,

Crashed upon me.

I saw the fog.

I saw how it surrounded me,

Tricking me into nearly familiar paths,

Traveling down wicked stretches of road,

I saw the light that once guided me,

Was merely false reflections brought upon by the rain.

I smelled distant memories,

A clutter of jumbled scents,

All fighting to fit as my suitor,

All masked by the overpowering scent,

Of nothing that really mattered.

I heard the pitter patter,

As I walked inside,

Shut the door,

And began to cry.

No more was all that was around be known to me,

For all have changed their sound,

The way the smelled,

The way they dressed,

The way they felt,

And the way they tasted.

All my tears fell on the floor,

Wasted,

Unseen,

Unheard,

Not felt,

Like a stray drop from the many pellets,

That fell from the clouds,

Crashing onto the ground.