Words fall like acid raindrops and I struggle to avoid them.

The ones that make contact sear into my skin,

etching themselves into the fabric of my being.

It’s unnerving when the rain suddenly stops, though.

The sunshine breaks through the gloom,

clouds dissolve into joyful rays of gentle love.

The change in the atmosphere does not bring me peace.

It feels as if I’ve been dancing around for ages.

My heart still pounds from the adrenaline,

my mind replays the ways I moved around the rain.

Am I expected to ignore the singe of my skin as easily?

One thought on “Seared

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