I just showered earlier this morning, but now God cleanses my mind. The rain
comes down harder just outside the shelter of the trees, the entry into the grey
buildings that line the roads and fill my world. But what is refuge if it is not
wanted?

my hair is cut; short. The rain used to hit and run, past my
eyes, shaken off. Now it drives right in, i feel it on my skin. the emotions
remain Unwritten.

I feel naked, but all the while i've only been hiding
behind a fake barrier, a covering in my mind. When you live in the rain, expect
to get wet. Cars race past and kick up small scattered lakes amongst, within the
black of the road, unbrellas all around me divert the rain back and forth until
it all reaches me.

don't feel sorry for yourself, don't be proud because
you endure the rain alone. you chose to. Don't run for shelter halfway through,
don't shelter with a passer-by. remember that what you choose affects others;
choose to affect others in a way in line with your morals. Feel the rain on your
skin; don't just let it roll off.

I walk the streets alone, the ground
seems to be my interest, but I see everything. or i think i do. my friends of
the sky take shelter in the shadows of the trees that rain down upon me, and
strangers that i recognise and know walk past and aside me. I've read their
eyes; only one has ever read mine, but that doesn't matter, because there is no
one for it to matter to. Some walk beneath shelter, some choose the darkened
sky, willingly or otherwise. but i walk alone, with an umbrella in my bag, and a
jacket in my locker. Because there is no one with me to shelter. therefore i
walk in the rain.

wherewith i walk alone, in the rain.