an outpour

there are times when i can't explain why things happen the way they do.  why a sudden turn of events suddenly become a source of liberation instead of inhibition.  and then i remember that all i did wasn't DOING anything at all.  it was just sitting there in front of the mirror begging with my eyes closed.

rain cleans ink blot stains

i got rained on today on the way back from lunch break.  i didn't realize that the rain would pour down so strong because the sun was out when we left the office. it felt cold but walking under the rain felt like a spark of life.  the wind was hitting my face and the drops drenched my hair.  it poured over my wounds the ones that opened last night and made me realize what i want to do.  

the leaves of pages i've written my life soaked and stains of ink blots run down the story woven. rain can clean.  can refresh.  dust can be swept away.