Like drained soldiers,my potted plants on my sill are drooping.Their terracotta have drenched into dark brown. I place them on the floor or the storm could break them. My room has been copper for days now. The sun is supposed to go down in an hour but you wouldn’t know because it has already hid itself behind the raging clouds. The sky is crying and the tears look like yours when I last saw you.

The storm started a while ago and I wanted to fight it. The wind slapped my face and the cold gust went on devouring me like a mad lover. The tempest raging outside wanted me to move from my window.

I have lost every battle against my darkness, but not this one, not this one. The disobedient kid in me rebelled against my decision to fight the storm. I sat down in front of the window. Sanity whispered me to move as the first frosty raindrop touched my bare legs. My skin froze slowly and every droplet pierced me.

Our tragedy did not have a name, it only had our bodies.

After an hour, the storm died down and so did my fears.

I hadn’t cried so the sky drenched me in tears.