It's a Sunday in Spring

But it's not a warm, sunny day.

It's pouring raining,

Raindrops filled with nothing but gloom.

Finally a day that reflects how I'm feeling.

A day that matches how I feel in my head through to the tips.

As sad as that sounds,

there's something comforting about the day echoing the same feelings.

Not having to fight with the blinding shines of happy from the sun

Prying through the blinds.

Not trying to numb my body and sedate my mind to no end.

There's something so freeing in watching the outside be as cold as the inside.

Not feeling guilty about avoiding the joy and beauty from the natural glow of the annoyingly ordinary day.

Trying not to shiver from the prickling vibration of the sun

It's heartbreaking not being able to remember the last time you felt as warm as the normal spring day.

But that makes you appreciate the irritated roar of the thunder in the clouds

Because the rain doesn't make you feel trapped and alone.

How ironic.

Each raindrop against the window whispers to you

That your turn of Spring is coming.

All you need to do is ride out the storm

On a Sunday in Spring.