Reading is a series of human emotions. Writing is the gift of sharing these emotions.
I have no umbrella.
It's raining in this confined space
And there's nothin' but the four walls,
They're supposed to protect me,
But they couldn't shield me from the pouring rain that somehow got through the roof and emerged through the pointless ceiling.
As the drizzle turned into a downpour,
I started drowning in the water;
It was overflowing.
Lights shut down and so did I,
Not wanting to reach for the knob that will open the door.
The unsympathetic substance flaunted its dominion by restraining my movements
It motioned like a swing, recklessly moving me up and down in an arc as I shivered from its coldness
I felt defenseless, and scared of the damn liquid that was taking control of me.
Then, I realized that the water was also stuck in these four walls, and my fear slowly subsided.
I figured that it rained hard enough to get through my self-prison to leave me no choice and get out.
In a new light, the once cold water turned warm, and I embraced it.
It felt that it was embracing me, too.
The rain's purpose was to fill my empty space and keep me company,
And now that I've gathered all my courage,
I could finally open the door and leave these four walls.
© 2021 Shey Saints