Out of Probable Things

Some days the rain is the only calm I get.

It washes the colors clean, when I see through a fog, and keeps all but the memories at bay. So what if I was supposed to let go. There are times when I can’t even be happy, can’t even feel anything. If feeling hurt tells me I’m here, well, then let me be.

I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. Probably.

 

 

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