Something About The Rain
You were my rain
when you should’ve been my ocean.
You left me in a drought;
the flowers I had planted for you whithered away.
Each time you came back,
you would drown me in your love and affection.
My flowers would grow
and so would my hope.
But like I’ve said before,
flowers can’t grow without sunlight
and it was always cloudy days with you.
I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up loving the rain.
Unlike your sky, there will never be a grey area.
You either loved me,
or left me.
He is my ocean.
His waves are gentle when they hit my feet.
He does not drench me in his love,
but lets me choose how deep I’m willing to go.
His tide comes in,
and goes back out.
But he never leaves me long enough
to go through a drought.
He is my ocean,
and I will drown in his sea.
